What You Seek is Seeking You
by Celine1618
Summary: After a whirlwind romance in Barcelona sparked by an unexpected meeting on a train, Cosima and Delphine say goodbye to return to their separate lives with a promise to meet again six months later (March). We pick up shortly after A Lifetime in a Moment (Part One) leaves off.
1. Chapter 1

**_Delphine_**

She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about the assignment. When she had made the call to accept, she had been so sure, so adamant, so damned determined. That day in Barcelona had sealed it for her. She had been ready to be challenged, to be useful in a different, more direct way. To chart her own path, not be anchored to the past.

The point had been to go where needs were greatest. And she did have a talented tongue, was familiar with Arabic, knew relevant clinical terms thanks to that one rotation on the outskirts of Paris.

She had said as much in her interview.

So now. She kicked herself for her candor. She was more concerned with failing her patients than herself. But she wondered at the possibility of both.

She also wondered about the small brunette who had, without intention, set her on this path. She smiled up at the Paris night before she left, straining to make out that small constellation in a too-bright sky. When Cosima pointed to that cluster of stars she meant it as a sort of metaphor of her. But all Delphine could think of now was Cosima's eyes on those stars from Minnesota, her gaze a sort of claiming. And it made her blush.

She knew she would see those stars more clearly where she was going, and the thought warmed her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She was curled into a small cramped seat, her forehead gently resting against the harsh metal and plastic skin of the jet. Her eyes mirrored her frantic mind, earnestly searching the wisps of clouds backlit by a setting sun. To give some direction and focus to too-rapidly firing neurons, she ran through medical terms in Arabic, expected clinical encounters, diagnostic algorithms, the most efficient and effective treatments with the supplies she would have.

She had been assigned to Irbid on the northern Jordanian border. Relatively peaceful, considering. It was far enough from the skirmishes between Israel and Palestine, and from the border with Syria that it rarely saw fighting. It simply opened itself to the aftermath of both.

Considering her first few tentative days in the camp, she was frankly surprised at how easily she fell into the rhythm of the place, how the lack of pretense or prelude of the day-to-day clinic work felt right to her. Her colleagues were more than competent, passionate, irreverent - bawdy even. She knew she would learn from them. And, small as it may be, she could see the difference her efforts made, every day.

Days and nights under the clinic tents were chaos. One after another patients came. Mostly abrasions, contusions, dehydration. She moved to each in turn, taking as much time as she could to learn their stories in the space of time it took her to mend whatever was broken, to comfort as well as heal. Only occasionally did she walk into the makeshift waiting area, seeing the devastation that hadn't quite required her attention yet. It was often overwhelming, and those were the moments she felt most exhausted, a vague sense of loss.

It was hard to reconcile the strange sense of understanding and not understanding she felt at once in this new life. After talking all day with local clinicians and health care workers, her patients, the many others who hung around the settlement, she felt she was beginning to cut through the haze, to gain some understanding of the lives of the people she tried to help. But then a conversation, a news headline, a stray word from a colleague sent her nascent grasp into a tailspin. It was like reaching for a word, just on the tip of your tongue, never finding it. Endlessly frustrating. Endlessly humbling.

She didn't delude herself into thinking she made a difference in any broad, geopolitical sense. That's not what she was after anyway; she could see the difference on an individual level. But it was exhausting work, and somehow never quite enough. The work did keep her hands, her mind, her body busy. She hardly had a moment to herself since the day she arrived.

She spoke to Danielle on Skype once a week, but felt more and more distance growing, unable to explain her daily life and unable to connect with Danielle's. A gulf was opening. She wasn't sure it could be bridged until she was back home.

Without the link back home, her thoughts turned inward, to Cosima. She felt like a lovesick teenager and chided herself at first – _so childish to cling to such a momen_ t! And the bliss did feel jarring, like forcing the bright blue shard of an old life into muted greys and browns, a disjointed mosaic.

Something had been awoken as she'd lain that night by the small American. Like that piece of her life would always shine a little brighter, cast everything else in a paler light. She wrestled with its interpretation, categorization, meaning.

Maybe that moment had been a sign-post? To shuttle her to a different path?

But she couldn't shake the feeling that their night on that beach was a singular moment in time – heavier than others – like Cosima had said in the basilica. Not a signpost, but …

Cosima felt _inevitable_ , like she was the destination Delphine had been heading toward her whole life.

Delphine's mind settled on her at the oddest times. When she was smoking with her colleagues in the makeshift rec tent in the evenings and someone mentioned their longing for a good hookah pipe. Or in the discussion of the recent Nobel nominees and the molecular mapping of DNA repair. She also wondered what the small woman would make of her decision, would think of her work. How she would respond to the many wire service photographers and freelancers she met in town – so rough, many of them, having seen too much. Others were weeping hearts, solemn and beaten, but still idealistic. Could she think of Cosima here? So full of life and light, but clearly having dealt with her own pain? Did she want to bring her here, subject her to the physical risk, the emotional upheaval? Was it so crazy to think of the two of them, a doctor and a journalist - or a scientist perhaps - together, in the midst of such chaos?

Cosima was so beautiful in her mind's eye. She wondered at how most would think it impossible to know someone in so short a time. She doesn't know what Cosima likes for breakfast, or how she spends her days. But she knows her already in all the ways that matter. Her mind drifts to these things when she's alone, filling in the missing pieces they've not yet shared.

And so she thinks of the night on the beach. She fills in their story with so many there-afters. The possibilities keep her mind awake at night, and follow her into sleep. In those long, lonely, exhausted nights, she uses her own hand to sate the arousal that springs from the mere memory of her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 ** _Cosima_**

"I know, I know," she looks back at the computer screen sheepishly, her hands on her head, fingers tracing scalp between her dreads. "But, Fee, I don't think I can possibly live with myself if I don't go."

In a thick British drawl he responded, "Oh, my little dove, you _looked_ for her. Didn't you say that school had no record of her? Maybe she was just a repressed little French girl looking for a fling, or maybe she has a dread fetish." His tone peaked at that, almost squeaking as he tried to draw the brunette out of her stormy mood.

She didn't bite. "The staff said that she wasn't _currently_ a student, and that they couldn't give me any more information. That hardly means, like, anything." Her hands fall out from her body in exclamation and exasperation.

"Yeah, I still think you shoulda talked to Cal while he was still around, or channeled your inner Veronica, dear. Delphine can't be _that_ common, even among the French. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

"Well, yeah, but who wants to be a stalker? I suggested we meet up sooner, and she said six months. We _agreed_ : March 2nd, Fee. That's how I'll find her." She let out a long sigh, hinting at a seed of hope engulfed by five long months of resignation. "I _have_ to go. I … I want to go." Her lips dipped into a contemplative frown.

"You do realize," he said in his thick drawl, "that she may not be there? And then you will have blown _all_ of _our_ money for your Spring break … rum _spring_ a." He cocked an eyebrow and waved his hand at the screen, throwing her own corny phrase back at her. "We _have_ to get you out of that musty library, those _painfully_ boring shawls you wear in Minnesota."

As he spoke, she grabbed her wrapping papers and absentmindedly rolled a joint. "Ugh, I know. I feel like I have been living in this vacuum the past five months, stewing, thinking about that night. Not being able to check-in with her is making me, like, batshit." Her hands gestured wildly on either side of her head, stopping abruptly as she lit a small flame, inhaled deeply, and looked back to Fee.

"You definitely need a scratching post, darling," he drawled, "I have been telling you this for months."

After a beat, she scrunched her nose, pointed at the screen, and exhaled. "I have dated, Fee, Jesus, it's not like I have been a monk. I just, I mean, nothing is quite like that night, you know? No one is quite … her. I'm ruined until I find out what is going on."

"Go, then. Go." He waved his hand at the air again, then turned around, looking intensely into the screen, warmth radiating despite the snarky curve of us his lips, "You better keep me updated, monkey." He smirked as he poured another glass of wine, "and take _better_ pictures this time."

She laughed as she waved him off and said her goodbyes, shutting the laptop. She looked down as his words drifted off, her eyes drawn to several black and white photographs by her laptop, never far. One was of the two of them, laughing happily that morning on the beach, framed by the deep grey of the blanket, their bodies and Delphine's hair light upon it. The second was of Delphine, biting her lip as she looked up shyly at the camera through her long lashes.

The frame was tight upon her face, the soft morning light setting a haze to her features, light shadows cast by her curls. The focus was tack-sharp on her eyes, but her lips and teeth pulled Cosima's gaze down. It was a beautiful portrait, made moreso by the subject. This was the one Cosima couldn't quite put away, remembering all the emotions so easily read on the blonde's face: vulnerability, mirth, concern. The lust.

 _Yes. I am definitely going back to Barcelona._


	2. Chapter 2

**_Delphine_**

Delphine asked to take her six month R&R rotation a bit early, and booked a flight out of Amman to get to Barcelona March 1. She couldn't wait to see Cosima again, felt that night had expanded to occupy a disproportionate hold on her mind and heart.

She had practiced the speech describing her longing, had thought of having her on some nondescript bed, in whatever hotel was nearby, made special by the fact that unexpected, unlikely, unwished-for love had found her.

She had even inquired about photography needs with local agencies and wire service bureaus. She didn't know if she'd bring it up, wasn't sure where Cosima's interests lay at present, but she wanted to be prepared to ask her to join. Just in case. If it felt right.

As her departure date neared, the influx of refugees grew steadily. Intensified fighting paired with trouble crossing northern borders had sent those fleeing south to Jordan. The clinics were inundated. Scrapes and contusions gave way to more severe injuries - broken limbs, infection, difficult births.

They asked her to stay, to cancel her trip. And what could she say to the need before her? To be true to the commitment she'd made, the change that she had sought.

She _knew_ Cosima would understand. She just had to reach her.

She immediately called Thomas, now living in Madrid after a disastrous fallout with Adrian. She explained the situation, reminded him of Cosima, and earnestly begged him to travel to Barcelona, in the middle of the week, to deliver a letter from her to the dread-locked American. To explain her absence, give the woman all the details she would need to connect in another way, another time.

Hearing his cousin's exasperated voice, overcome with nervous exhaustion and sadness at not being able to make the trip, he agreed. She would send a letter to Cosima overnight to Thomas, and he would seek out the American, make sure she understood why Delphine couldn't make it.

She penned the letter that night.

She filled pages and pages describing her life now, emphasizing how a single night with Cosima had made her certain of her path. How unfair it was that this very path had ruined their plans to reunite, at least for now. She wrote her address in Jordan, in Paris, her cell, her email, Skype, every detail they had so foolishly omitted before. And she begged for a second chance to meet in the coming weeks, in Minnesota, if Cosima wished. Whenever, and wherever. She would come.

She signed it,

 ** _All my love,  
Delphine Cormier_**

 ** _-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-_**

 ** _Cosima_**

She walked out of the terminal straightaway - her weekender bag enough to carry everything she would need for the next three days – and took the subway straight to Jaume 1. She had plenty of time for her plan, stopping by that beloved truffle shop and stocking up on all the favorites she remembered - and two peanut clusters - smiling to herself the whole way.

As she made her way to the train station, she noticed a flower shop next to the one boasting Barca tickets. She stopped briefly, wavering on the sidewalk, considering. Was it too cheesy? Too unoriginal? But then her eyes settled on Calla Lilly blossoms in bright yellows, whites, soft lavender. They reminded her of the French woman, delicate and elegant and vibrant.

With flowers and truffles in hand, she made her way to the train station, making sure to arrive early, for perhaps the first time in her life. She picked a spot on a bench with a good view of the entire platform. She wanted to watch the blonde walk in, see her reaction.

Cosima knew the next train from Paris arrived at 5:30 and again at 7:00. But she was certain Delphine would be on the 5:30, should be at _their_ platform by 5:45. So she waited.

As the clock neared 6pm, she grew nervous, excited energy suffusing her body. She fidgeted, toyed with the flowers, her bag, tried to focus on the magazine in her lap, though focus had been elusive all evening.

But she doesn't see her. She searched the crowds of people flooding from every direction as several trains arrived, she looked for those unmistakable blonde curls. _Perhaps she is coming from somewhere else, or she has been delayed?_

As the clock struck 7:00, Cosima began to worry. Only vaguely had she considered the possibility that Delphine would not be here. Even then, she thought she must have been delayed, there had been some mistake. She was second-guessing herself, wondering if she got the time or the platform or the date wrong. She waited at the platform receiving the next train from Paris. No bouncing blonde curls. No wide grin. That lip gripped by teeth. No flashing hazel eyes.

So she paced, searching aimlessly, her bag, the now-drooping flowers, slung by her side.

Deflated, she finally asked for recommendations for hotels at the information desk, settling on a hostel close to the station, dragging herself there. Uninterested in food, she stopped by a small shop for a bottle of water and a bottle of Spanish wine.

Two glasses in, she devises a plan. There is no way Delphine just _didn't_ show.

 _She must be delayed. Something happened._

She printed signs at the hostel, her name and Delphine's etched in bold, noting the number of her recently unlocked phone, and resolved to post them at the platform and at several other thoroughfares at the train station.

Cosima is never far from the station, checking and walking the platforms several times the next day. But as it dawned on her that the blonde wasn't coming, that she was alone in Barcelona, she wandered down to the beach, stopping there to look out at the waves that had once been a promise of things to come, and now seemed to mock her. She heard only loneliness in the forlorn echo. Then chided herself at her overly-wrought reaction. As the sun set, she walked up La Rambla into Barri Gotic.

In a last ditch effort, she tried to retrace their steps to the restaurant Delphine chose, her cousin's place, where she might find a way to contact the blonde. She didn't feel jilted, not yet. Instead, she felt like something was off, terribly wrong, that there was a reason for the missed connection, that she must find a way to re-forge it.

But when she finally found the restaurant, after several hours wandering Barri Gotic, the bartender waved her off, saying Thomas had been gone for months, that they didn't know where to find him. She asked for a number, an address, anything. But was met with blank, cold stares. She could only imagine that there must have been a falling out, that Thomas, and his friends, were no longer welcome here.

In that last day, Cosima didn't see Barcelona. She wandered, but it was all sepia, drained of color and meaning. It seemed boring, trite, crushed with tourists. She hated the cobblestone steps, the graffiti, the thousand-and-one tapas bars. She didn't dare venture to La Sagrada Familia or Parc Guell.

The train station, the cold reception at the restaurant, it all began to distort and corrupt that night they shared together, the certainty, the emotion she felt. What she had believed the blonde felt too. Now she simply felt like a fool.

Heading back to the airport, Cosima's head laid low, her chin at her chest. She was embarrassed, angry, sad, self-chastising. She swore she'd use the flights home to purge those memories of Delphine, those pointless daydreams of their future. And plot a new path forward.


	3. Chapter 3

Cosima walked briskly through the concrete courtyard, flanked by tiered shrubs leading up to the squat chrome and glass of the conference center. Banners hung from the entrance carrying the same message as the signs dotting the dense business center of the city: _The International Congress of Immunology, 2022, Welcome to San Francisco._

Her heart was beating uncomfortably in her chest, breathing constricted, steps growing more hesitant as she made her way through the foyer to the wide, imposing staircase leading to the main auditorium.

This was the last day of the conference, the last session, reserved for the keynote speaker and the final oral abstracts. She was nearly late. As she reached Hall D, her eyes lingered on a poster, the very thing that had brought her here in the first place. The words prevailed against her mind's formidable defense, kindled feelings she thought long snuffed:

 _International Congress of Immunology_

 _Keynote Speaker: Delphine Cormier, MD, PhD_

 _Curing Huntington's: The Implications of CRISPR-Cpf1 for Genetic Modification of the HTT Gene in Somatic Cells_

She walked through the double doors just as the Center attendants were closing them to new arrivals, sneaking into the back. She stood awkwardly as she looked for an open seat. The room was massive, cavernous. This address had been open to the public, and the room was near bursting, all eager to hear the reveal of the most successful application of the CRISPR technique in treating a genetic disorder. The noise of so many bodies shifting in their seats, whispering, created a soft wash of murmurs, echoing and multiplying. It compounded her sense of being adrift, ill-at-ease.

The Chair of the Conference made his way to the lectern as Cosima searched still for a seat, unable - or unwilling - to look to the stage.

"Welcome to everyone here today, our last day of the Congress. It's been a pleasure to attend the sessions and oral presentations of such accomplished scientists and clinicians. We are entering an unprecedented era of discovery, and it is thrilling to be here in San Francisco this year, the birthplace, in many ways, of a technique that is bound to define this new age …"

Cosima finally spotted a seat, very close to the front. Dropping her head, she quickly made her way there, trying to avoid notice, and blocking out the overture.

"…. It is my pleasure today to introduce our keynote for 2022. An accomplished young scientist whom we all know well from several recent publications on her clinical trials in France and profiles in Science, Nature, among others. Dr. Cormier has spearheaded the first trials to successfully and consistently apply the CRISPR technique to design individualized gene therapies for Huntington's disease. She was also recently awarded the career achievement award for contributions to human immunology research by AAI, the youngest ever to receive that premiere award. We look forward to your address, Dr. Cormier." The speaker pulled slightly back, looking behind him to signal for the speaker to join him at the lectern.

Cosima looked up then, rather close, just below and to the left of Delphine as she walked forward. She cut an imposing figure in the bright auditorium lights in a dark navy suit, three-inch pumps, and board-straight hair, sleek and shiny. But her eyes are the same, Cosima thinks, kind and warm with a spark behind them as she raises her eyes to the crowd – Defiance still? Ambition? Mischief? She couldn't tell. Her angular cheekbones looked more severe framed as they were by long, straight hair.

Cosima finally catches her breath.

Delphine curled her fingers around each side of the lectern and looked out, commanding and confident, her eyes bouncing along the members of the audience. She began to speak, painting a broad picture of the promise of this particular approach to gene therapy for curing disease caused by mutations in specific genes. She ran quickly through the simplicity of the technique, familiar to most in the audience, but also the pitfalls of hubris, of applying the technique without adequately accounting for adverse events.

She spoke in detail of the clinical trials she'd been leading for the Dyad Institute in France over the past 3 years, determining the best method and enzyme for re-coding the HTT gene. She described the steps taken, exploring honestly the fits and starts of their process, noting her hope that other scientists could sidestep the failures they encountered.

Cosima shifted in her seat, her mind's eye flashing to the giggling girl in her arms in the Mediterranean Sea, their kiss in the cathedral, the soft tears she cried when she spoke of her mother. A hundred other little moments they shared so long ago, in the span of a day.

She became distracted, staring still at the blonde, but seeing a moment six years ago rather than the one before her now. She was beautiful and tender and unsure in Cosima's memory, just as she was imposing and striking now, confidence and poise pooling around her.

The address was coming to an end, signaled by the shift in tone, bringing Cosima back to the present. Delphine described the next steps in making this therapy more widely available and accessible. But she ended with a cautionary note, her tone becoming harder, directive: these therapies should be highly regulated, available only to individuals who can fully consent, and designed specifically, and only, for mature cells.

As applause rumbled through the crowd, the Chair walked back into the center of the stage with a microphone, thanking Delphine for her remarks. He paused, waiting for the initial applause to subside, and asked if she would take a few questions - seemingly prepared beforehand - from the Scientific Advisory Committee. She agrees, expectant.

He asked several questions about specific techniques, and additional immunological therapies to address symptoms of Huntington's in absence of genetic modification. She answered each question with ease, even removing the microphone from its stand to introduce an air of informality and allow her to move about the stage. As he came upon the last question, a smirk passed his lips. "Okay Dr. Cormier, last question, you issued - toward the end of your remarks - a warning on the misuse of genetic modification. And we understand you have started a foundation to look into this very question. Could you speak a bit more to your concerns about the technique for which **you** have developed one of the first real-world applications?"

As he finished the question, Delphine's eyes drifted to her left, taking in the crowd and judging the reaction. Her body went still as her eyes landed on the brunette, so, so close to her.

 _Unmistakable. Her eyes, her dreads._ Her mind nearly sighed the woman's name. She couldn't make sense of the inexplicable look in the brunette's eyes, shielded behind glasses, dark blue cat-eye frames. But she knew her. She knew her at once. Her vision narrowed, losing herself, drawn back to that moment so many years ago. The world beyond the woman was a blur, white noise. Her mind went blank.

Cosima recognized Delphine recognizing her and grinned back as their eyes locked, both a bit unsure. Cosima cocked her head to the side, her shoulders rolling with a silent laugh as she signaled for the blonde to turn back to her colleague on stage.

Delphine's head shook almost imperceptibly, smiling self-consciously as she turned back to the speaker.

"Um, oui, yes, thank you for this question." But then she stumbled, the eloquent, well-timed response falling from her mind as she grappled with seeing Cosima so unexpectedly. She reached for the index cards she never needed, stumbling. A length of silence fell in the room, but she regained her footing, coming back to the moment.

"Yes, again, thank you for this question. Well," she turned back, eyes settling again on the brunette, but more composed, "I spoke with a colleague, with a friend, early in my career, when CRISPR had just been discovered and was being considered as a tool in individualized therapies. We spoke of the implications of such a method for genetic engineering."

She looked back to the speaker. "This is now a mainstay in the discourse in our community, of course, but at the time, those conversations made clear to me that while this technique could be transformative, most certainly, it could also have dramatic adverse effects if not monitored, carefully considered. Our foundation seeks to elucidate these consequences, warn against the overuse, the misuse of this technology. We strongly believe that this technique should only be used on mature somatic cells, and not be considered in germline gene modification. Our work informs policies and regulations to that effect."

She turned back to Cosima, who was leaning forward, listening intently, another unreadable expression on her face. The French woman's tone shifted and she smiled, and Cosima felt she was speaking directly to her now. "We want to use this technique for the greater good, but we don't want to edit out what makes each of us unique, singular. The foibles and idiosyncrasies that make us human. We want to honor that balance."

Cosima let out a low gasp, hearing her own words - spoken to a trembling blonde years ago and a half a world away - but delivered now by a French scientist to a crowd of her colleagues in what was a career-defining moment.

Cosima tried to reconcile the two women in her mind. But was interrupted as the session ended and applause washed the room. She sat back, arms folded lightly across her chest, and instead smiled at the striking beauty, the brilliant scientist. One in the same. The girl she knew, and the woman she sought.

Cosima's eyes were soft, perhaps a little sad. But when Delphine's eyes caught the brunette's, her gaze lingered, confused and pleading and hopeful. She bit her lip, and looked to her feet.

Then the auditorium became a scene of collective chaos as chairs were pushed back, participants began to mingle and talk, and a small contingent of colleagues and eager laymen swarmed the blonde at the front.

Delphine tried to maintain eye contact with the brunette, who bent to gather her things. As questions and polite entreaties to consider collaboration were thrown at her, she lost sight of her. She abruptly pushed through the crowd, and made her way to the woman, grasping her hand as she was turning to leave.

Cosima's hand clenched at the touch, slightly pulling away, but her body shivered.

"Please, Cosima. Please wait." Delphine voice was low and pleading. The way her heart pounded in her chest made clear the weight of the moment, the time and distance between the girl she remembered and this moment. She hoped Cosima felt it too, and would indluge her. "I need to finish up here, but I want to speak with you. Can you please wait?"

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded, a bit unsure. "Definitely. I'll wait just outside the entrance," she said as she pointed to the doors.

"Oui, merci."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She finds the brunette leaning against the building a few minutes later, studying the clouds, seemingly lost in thought. Delphine's body feels lighter at the sight of her, and laden with the weight of so many unmet expectations.

As she drew nearer, she schooled her expression to hide any regret, instead highlight her genuine joy.

"Oh, Cosima," she leaned down to press a chaste kiss to each of the woman's cheeks, closer to her eye than her lips, Cosima noted. "It is so lovely to see you. I … I thought I might lose it in there when I saw you. I had a response crafted to that question, and I saw you, and I … well, I'm so happy to see you." She let out a nervous laugh as she raised her hands in question or as an explanation of her jumbled emotions.

The blonde looked so different than she had in the auditorium, Cosima thought, with a blush caressing her cheeks, a broad, genuine smile on her lips. Her straight hair did not look so severe in the afternoon light, just a silky wave framing her smile.

Cosima was grinning at the woman's confession, remembering the stricken look on the blonde's face not long before. "Yeah, you looked like you'd seen a ghost. I'm so sorry I startled you." Her hands were already cutting the air in brief, punctuated swirls. "But, it was a very nice recovery." She gave her the okay sign, finger touching her thumb, as she cocked her head still grinning at Delphine.

Delphine laughed, almost a giggle, reminded of all the goofy expressions that came naturally to the brunette and seemed to carry with them light and optimism.

Cosima reached out to pinch the blonde's hip, stopping herself just in time, grasping one hand with the other, swinging it away, trying to play it off. She reminded herself she didn't know Delphine now, as much as she felt she did.

"So, I know today is the end of the conference. I just wanted to … um." Cosima stopped, her whole body stilled. She dipped her head but tilted her eyes up in question. "Well, I'm not sure … exactly." She was at a loss for words, wasn't even sure what her intentions or hopes were, much less how to explain them to Delphine.

"Cosima, yes, it is the end of the conference. I have to leave this evening, but I have a few hours still. Maybe we can go somewhere to talk? If that is okay? I would like very much to hear how you have been."

Cosima nodded, still reluctant, but unsure why. Just seeing the tall French woman again had her heart racing and aching. "Wonders of the universe over coffee?" she asked, with a small, nervous smile.

Delphine sighed and looked away, "Oui, Cosima, I would like that very much."

"You don't have to stay here at the conference?" She pointed back inside. "Talk to your many admirers?"

"Oh, non. Non. I have already made my apologies. I said I had another commitment." She beamed at Cosima, shyly, like the girl she was when they met. "It is okay," she waved, "they have had enough of me already this week. I have seen nothing of your city but this conference center and my hotel."

"Yeah, okay, we should correct that! Maybe lunch? There are a few places nearby."

"Anywhere you would take me."


	4. Chapter 4

They walked the streets of San Francisco with Cosima in lead as she described the neighborhood, turning to point out interesting shops or landmarks, her hands already cutting the wind in her signature style.

The effect was a sort of dancing stride, Delphine thought, her body in constant fluid motion.

"Cosima, Cosima, wait for a moment." Cosima slowed, turning to look at the blonde with a questioning look, still grinning. Her face fell as she saw Delphine's eyes, questioning, serious.

"Did you go?" Cosima recognized Delphine's pained expression at once, her knit brows, the way her perfect hands twisted each other while she waited for Cosima to process her words.

Cosima just looked up at the woman, slightly shocked, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

"Uh. Um," her neck jerked back in a defensive posture.

But Delphine ignored her body language, "That day, March 2nd. The platform in Barcelona? Please, I must know. It is important."

"Well … um … did you?"

"Non, no I couldn't. I tried desperately, but I was stuck in Jordan, I could not get away. But wait, were you there?"

"Nah, no, of course not." Cosima waved her off, then shrugged as she looked down, shuffling her feet and avoiding Delphine's gaze.

"But, why? Why not?" Her voice sounded exasperated, then hurt. "I would have been there if I could. I sent Thomas to look for you, with a letter. He said he could not find you. I did not believe him for the longest time … mon dieu, I gave him such a hard time …" Her voice trailed off at the end, as she looked away, the memory of that March rushing back. The strain between her and Thomas, the vague distrust that still lingered between them. Heat was rising. She couldn't tell if it was anger or shame or something else.

Cosima had come to see her speak, hadn't she?

When she brought her gaze back to Cosima, she could see the truth clearly evident in the small woman's vulnerable expression, lips slightly tucked inward. Then the small dreadlocked woman looked to her feet again, palm rubbing the back of her neck.

"Ohhhh, non. No, Cosima. You were there, weren't you?" She let out a long sigh, her hand covering her mouth, seeking the smaller woman's gaze, but she wouldn't meet it. Delphine let out a breathy half-laugh, but there was no mirth in it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They were ignoring, for now at least, the whys and hows of their missed connection all those years ago, focused on the joy of each other's company after so long. They began walking again, refocused on banter and people watching, and enjoying the sights along the Embarcadero. The Spanish name seemed fitting, Delphine thought.

It was a beautiful day, warm and breezy, the sun was shining, and the fog had burned off through the day.

As they walked along the path, the lightly lapping waves of the Bay to one side, the sculptures and streets on the other, they were oddly drawn in to each other. Nearly huddling, it was as though there was a narrowing of space and time forced by their unexpected meeting, the particular structure of the boardwalk, and that kinetic, sparkling connection between them that seemed to drown out everything else.

Delphine barely took in the bow-and-arrow burrowing out of the ground, or the square stone water sculpture that thrust vague white noise into her thoughts, she saw only the edge of winging eye-liner, the flash of pink behind teeth, only heard the low, throaty chuckle that seemed to accompany every cheeky remark. She couldn't remember the last time she felt the context of a statement more than its words. Felt the world grow brighter by the mere presence of someone beside her. But that's what she felt now.

As Barcelona had become a painful reminder of the small American woman, she was sure now the brunette would accompany every thought she had of San Francisco. Delphine was stealing glances, nodding and humming at Cosima's words, lost in her own thoughts and focused on the silhouette and bouncing dreads of her lost love. But then their walk ended abruptly, unexpectedly as Cosima brought them to a stop.

"We're here Delphine," She waved her hands at the restaurant. "This isn't as fancy as that place in Barcelona, but I love it here and they have a great view."

The restaurant, if it could be called that was really more of a carefully appointed shack, walls alternating between the stressed grey of old wood and bright teals and blues. There was a vague nautical theme, but it wasn't overdone. The whole building seemed to be precariously jutting out into the bay, with an open patio out back.

Cosima's expression and animated hand gestures were clearly trying to banish the awkwardness that had passed between them.

So Delphine grinned back, "Parfait. I love being on the water."

"I know," she answered simply.

As they walked up to the hostess table, they were met with familiarity that startled Delphine.

"Hey Cosima," the brunette hostess said brightly, hand waving to the side, a friendly gesture. She was short and petite, dressed in a patterned, casual dress, dark leggings and flat ankle boots that made her seem self-possessed. Not unlike something Cosima might have worn, Delphine thought.

"Hey, Sophie, um, just two. Outside if it's possible?"

"Yeah, for sure. A view, right?"

"That'd be awesome. We are early, right, not taking away from any actual customers."

"Yeah, you are way late for lunch and way early for dinner. Got your favorite seat actually." She handed Cosima two menus and gestured toward the deck.

"Good, good, yeah. Um, Delphine, this is Sophie." She gestured awkwardly between them, and Sophie looked at Delphine appraisingly, slightly defensive. She was young, early twenties. Delphine didn't know what to make of it.

"Hi, Delphine," she reached out her hand.

A handshake from a hostess? Delphine remembered herself, and took it lightly smiling back, "Enchantee, Sophie."

Sophie didn't respond directly, but looked at Cosima as she cocked her head, "Oh, um, right," then back to Delphine, "You guys have fun."

Delphine's brows knitted as she turned back to Cosima. Cosima nodded her head in a low dip nodding toward the outdoor tables, an uncharacteristically small smile on her lips.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They sat eyeing the menus, glancing at the water, anywhere but each other, both unsure of what to say next. Cosima deliberately, dramatically set her menu aside, looked pointedly at Delphine until she met her gaze.

"So, what's different? It's been almost 7 years, let's hear it." Her hands were splayed out in a bring-it gesture, her face a full-grin.

"Oh, mon ami, what do you mean?"

Back to mon ami. "Oh, I mean, like, how are we different? Let's start with me."

"Oh," Delphine laughed, the sound incongruent with the severe navy suit, her whole outward persona. "Well, I must admit, I was taken with this thread, this ribbon, you have through your hair?"

"Oh, yeah, totally. Right, that's new. Um, I started doing that maybe a year ago. More colorful, yeah. Do you like it?"

"Oui. I couldn't take my eyes off you in the conference center. It is oddly distracting," she said as she smiled back at Cosima, who tilted her head just slightly. "And me?"

"Oh, well, the obvious," she said as she gestured to the blonde's locks. "The straight hair is pretty hot, but it makes you seem sort of … I dunno … severe, maybe."

"Severe? Like corporate?" She wrinkled her nose. "Or do you mean cold?" Her voice fell a bit, wondering if the brunette could read the loneliness on her.

"No, no, not like that at all. I just remembered you with those completely wild curls. You seemed more light-hearted then, maybe."

"Oui. I was. When we met, I was both more melancholy and more carefree. It is odd how youth is like that, yes? Allows you to be two extremes at once? Growing older forces you to choose an extreme, or constrict your boundaries." Her tone was wistful, almost apologetic, and it made the brunette frown.

It was such a simple statement, so wrong in Cosima's experience, and it saddened her to think of the blonde making herself smaller somehow.

"Well, I think the straight hair is hot. You have this whole in-charge thing going for you. And, well deserved. This is probably not my place, but since you spoke today, I have just wanted to say I … I am so proud of you, Delphine. You did it. You solved the riddle." Cosima smiled, looking at hazel eyes until Delphine averted her gaze, then Cosima sputtered, "I knew you would. From that moment we met, I was pretty sure you'd achieve whatever you set your mind to."

Just as the blonde willed herself to look back up, Cosima looked past her to Sophie, giving her a slight nod and smile.

The kind words from Cosima had set her to a blushing smile, but the signal between her and the other woman took the wind out of her. "Thank you. And you Cosima? What did you set your mind to?" Her voice had an unexpected, undeserved edge, catching Cosima off guard.

"Ohh, um." She stopped, eyebrows furrowing at her strange tone, searching the blonde's eyes. "Well, I finished my PhD, of course, I moved back to San Francisco, clearly, and started teaching here. I feel like there is something you want to ask. You seem upset."

Being called out, Delphine felt at once surprised and ashamed of her own outburst. "Oh, Cosima, I am sorry. Um, I just. Are you involved with Sophie?"

Cosima let out a brief, rough chuckle, and sat further back in her chair, crossing her arms. "No, Delphine, absolutely not. She is 20 years old!" She was a little exasperated, trying to figure out what Delphine had read from her brief interaction with Sophie. "No, Sophie stayed with us for a while, when we fostered. She was with us for a few years actually, until she aged out." She looked back to the hostess stand where Sophie stood, gesturing wildly as she explained the menu to some tourists. "But she's still part of our lives. She's doing really well actually. We're proud of her."

Delphine was stunned into silence, shaking her head left and right slowly, shaking off her assumptions while trying to take in this new information. It all fit her understanding of the brunette, the little history she knew, but she was struggling with "us" and "our".

"Oh, Cosima, I am sorry. I …" was irrationally jealous, she thought. "You foster, here, in San Francisco?"

"Yeah, well, I did." Her expression softened now, completely amused at Delphine's stricken expression, quirking her brow at the blonde's awkwardness. "Shay and I fostered for several years. While we were together anyway. It didn't seem possible on my own. I think we talked about Shay. She was the woman I left just before that trip to Barcelona. Anyway, it was hard for us to see kids come through that went back to hard homes or aged out of the system, but we kept up with as many of them as possible." She looked back up to the hostess stand, a smile playing on her lips. "Sophie was the longest actually, she was with us for a little over two years. It's really unfortunate how hard it is for kids to overcome learned distrust. That girl had a lot of reasons not to trust us, and she did anyway, eventually. She's braver than you and me combined, that one."

"I always thought you'd be doing something like that, Cosima." Her tone and her gaze were soft now, lips curving up the slightest bit. "You have an open heart."

Cosima blushed and looked down, tapping the table with the fingers of her right hand, a small nervous gesture. "What about you? You were the one who wanted to join MSF! You said Jordan? Was that your deployment?."

"We can talk about my work later. You've just had to listen to me prattle on. I want to hear about you. What have you been up to? You said you finished your PhD, so that would make you Dr. Niehaus, oui?"

Cosima's grin faded and her eyebrows raised in question. Her lips pursed as she was about to voice her question.

Delphine's voice faltered as she spoke, "I … I have seen some of your edX courses, Cosima. I finally learned your name about a year ago."

"Ohhhh," she nodded, surprised. "Yeah, yeah, I do that on the side. How did you …?"

"A colleague of mine saw your course on Basics of Immunology and found the course excellent and you … endlessly amusing. She shared it with me. She had no idea. Mon dieu. I am sorry. I sound like, what is the word, a creeper. I promise … I …" She had been looking anywhere but at the brunette as she explained, but then she stopped and looked to Cosima, her eyes guarded.

Cosima reached across the table and very lightly touched the blonde's hand, sending a jolt through them both. "Delphine. It's totally fine. Really. I mean, I crashed your bigshot lecture today, right? I've sort of been keeping up with you too."

The blonde nodded slightly, biting her lip. Cosima loved that the tall blonde hadn't lost the habit that made her seem at once shy and vulnerable and predatory.

They were interrupted by Sophie, bringing a pitcher of margaritas – the nod and the smile, Delphine thought, chastising herself silently – and asking for their order. She was seemingly filling in as waitress, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Delphine deferred, asking Cosima to order something for them.

"Okay, this place has the best – like the best – tacos. I suggest the grilled fish, shrimp, and Korean beef bulgogi – is that cool? And some guacamole maybe?"

"Oui, that sounds great."

"Okay Sophie, one of each for both of us, and the guac, yeah." She gave the younger blonde a meaningful don't say it expression, as the girl smirked and shuffled away.

Cosima poured them each a glass. "You definitely need this after schmoozing geeks all week." They clinked their glasses, and Delphine closed her eyes at the sweet, tart liquid and salt on her tongue. She was immediately grateful, she felt she might need a little liquid courage for this day.

"Okay, okay, sooo, what did you think of the courses? Be honest."

"They really are wonderful, Cosima. I remember that day on the train, how you explained prion diseases, oui? It is much like that, you are so accessible, and your passion comes through your hands." She felt her body warming, and was sure her pale skin was visibly blushing. "I particularly liked your Genetics 101 lectures - convergent evolution, epigenetic influence. Very well-done. Your students seem to love you. But you know you are good, Cosima, your course is the highest rated under the applied biology section, is it not?"

Cosima was flattered, self-conscious, but also feeling herself treading dangerously close to old feelings, thinking of the powerful blonde watching her nerdy edX rants and basking now in her praise. She had really watched them, closely, it seemed.

"I remember your nickname. Geek monkey?" She laughed, shoulders shaking, "it is true, mon ami, it is still true." She tilted her head as her eyes met dark hazel, she smiled, and her voice grew softer. "In the best possible way."

Cosima nodded, a broader grin growing, pink just visible behind her smile. She desperately needed to break this flirtation, this tension coiling between them. But she couldn't help herself.

"Wow, Delphine, Bad Ass Dr. Cormier gettin' some free learning from UC Berkeley, I see." She grinned a long moment, her gaze playful, but unflinching searching the blonde's.

"Yeah, so, to answer your question. I finished my courses in Minnesota and moved back here to finish up my dissertation. Then I started a post-doc at Berkeley, back to my roots, I suppose. I'm an associate professor now in the Integrative Biology department. The edX thing wins me small points with the tenure committee. I haven't really published much. But I do love the courses. The discussions are either seriously amusing and engaging or induce weeping and gnashing of teeth. It's a crapshoot day-to-day," she waved her hand to dismiss it as she laughed.

The soft tacos arrived quickly, and Delphine immediately wondered if there was any way to politely eat a taco. She could envision the mess she was about to make, so she shifted nervously, repositioned the napkin in her lap, strategizing.

Cosima already had a chip and guac loaded, halfway to her mouth. "Oh no, what's wrong? Tacos were totally wrong, right? We can absolutely go somewhere else. There's this really great place …"

"Non, non Cosima," she laughed at the woman's distress, cutting her off to put her at ease. "I am just hoping I do not make a mess in front of you. I do not eat tacos much. They look delicious, and I am starving."

"Oh, come on, once you taste that shrimp taco – macadamia crusted shrimp, jicama and mango salsa – you are not gonna have a care in the world. Plus, I'm super, super messy."

As they ate, they fell into comfortable, if impersonal banter, looking out at the waves, and talking about the few surfers they could see near the shore. Delphine let out a few contented sighs at the tacos, forgetting her earlier concern completely, just as Cosima promised.

Halfway through the first taco, Delphine slinked out of her jacket, the heat from the sun too much and its constricting nature at odds with the new direction of the day. Cosima tried not to let her eyes drink in the willowy form, a thin, white-silk cap-sleeve blouse barely concealing the contours beneath.

She cleared her throat instead, "it's too bad you can't stay for a while. I know the kids that run the surfing school just a few blocks down. We could teach you to surf."

"Oui, Cosima. Do you surf?"

"Yeah, yeah, kind of always have actually. Not as much as I used to, and San Fran isn't the best place for it. But I find the water soothing."

Thinking of the small compact form gliding on crashing waves seemed so fitting to Delphine, like her dancing stride, Cosima seemed right in motion. "I feel the same, though I have never learned to surf. I was interested in checking out the diving in the area. It is not the best here, I understand, but the kelp beds are supposed to be interesting."

"Oh cool, cool. Yeah, the water is pretty frigid here, but there are a couple diving spots further south you might enjoy." Their gazes were lingering a bit now, and Cosima couldn't stop her gaze from drifting to Delphine's lips as she licked at a bit of errant mango salsa. "So, diving and surfing probably won't happen today. But what else did you want to see in the city? I could return the favor, play tour guide?"

Delphine thought very seriously of telling Cosima that the only sight she had hoped to see was sitting before her, but she stopped herself. While she was accustomed to getting what she wanted, she was on uneven ground. Wasn't sure of herself or Cosima.

"Well, you will not believe it, but I have not been on the Golden Gate Bridge. I know this is a very touristy thing to do, but I must see it up close, non? To say I have been to San Francisco?"

"Yes, absolutely. It's a good thing I rescued you from those villains at your conference, otherwise they would have had you slaving under lock and key all damn week."

She winked at Cosima, "Oui, meetings and lectures and poster sessions, mon dieu. It is torture."

Cosima rolled her eyes as she gestured to Sophie for the check.

"OK, well I have just the place. It shouldn't be too crowded, has a great view of the bridge, and we can walk along the beach. Sound good?" Delphine nodded as they rose to leave, her thoughts swimming pleasantly from the margaritas.

As they neared the exit, Sophie abruptly pulled Cosima aside, blocking the blonde's view and whispering softly, "She's the one right? Those photos?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, she's the one."

"She's gorgeous." Sophie squeezed her hand, "don't let her slip away this time."


	5. Chapter 5

They reached the edge of the beach, the blonde's smile full and wide as she looked out to the sea and up at the bridge. When her eyes caught Cosima's, a memory of another beach, another time, flashed between them. Cosima smiled back and slightly shrugged her shoulders.

Delphine leaned down to take off her heels, roll up the hem of her navy slacks. She draped her jacket over her purse, and followed Cosima, her dark, fitted, ankle-length slacks and patterned top were not as much a hindrance.

As they walked out onto the white sand beach, dotted with small boulders, edges smoothed by the never-ending cycle of crashing waves, Cosima's felt a strong impulse to reach out to the blonde, but it warred with her instinct for self-preservation. Their distance was appropriate, necessary even. She wondered still at so many unanswered questions, and, if she were to have a moment to herself, she was sure that past hurt would overtake the heady mix of comfort and attraction and tenderness she felt for this woman. It was frustrating that this connection could override the years between them.

Instead of getting lost in this spiral of feelings, her nervous energy animated her hands as she told the blonde of the history of the Golden Gate Bridge, nearly a mile long, a modern wonder of the world! "By the late 1800s, San Francisco was the only major city in the world that you could only reach by ferry. The guy that developed the first design to connect the city to the mainland was also a poet, and the main engineer was a Greek scholar. I've always kinda liked that, none of them were just one thing, you know. Anyway, it took nearly four years to build and is held together by 1.2 million rivets."

Delphine was looking up at the bridge as the woman spoke. "Mon ami, do you have a pamphlet tucked away somewhere?"

"Hah, no, but you know I lead this after school science program, and we just did a session on weight-bearing capacity and bridge design, so you know, it's pretty fresh."

"You teach another science course?"

"Well, no, it's not really a course. It's something I got involved with a few years ago, and I really love it, so I've continued to do it though we don't have any kids in school. Basically, it's like a club, for nerdy elementary and middle school students. We explore a different branch of science each week, experiments, field trips and such. We mostly meet at the Exploratorium. I could take you there later if you want?"

"Oui, Cosima, I would love to see that, maybe you could teach me a thing or two as well." They traded easy smiles as the brunette nodded.

"Deal, maybe after we leave here?"

"D'accord. But this is lovely Cosima. I really like how quiet and peaceful it is, but in the middle of everything. Maybe we can sit here for a little while?"

"Yeah, yeah, totally. That's fine."

Delphine placed her bag slowly on the shifting sand and lowered body, hugging her knees to her chest for a brief moment before she motioned for Cosima to join her, that warm, welcoming smile never leaving her face. The brunette found it disconcerting how easy their interaction was, but she had wanted to see the blonde smiling at her that way for so long.

As Cosima knelt in the sand, she shifted unexpectedly, falling against the blonde who reached out, snaking an arm around her waist to steady her. As she settled in next to her, Delphine withdrew her hand slowly, lightly touching her waist, her back, and then brushing dreads back from her shoulder.

"Cosima." She nearly whispered as they looked out at the waves, softly rolling in. "I remember the last time we were on a beach. I remember that night more clearly than I remember whole years of my life." She laid her cheek lightly on her knees and looked at the brunette, a vulnerable posture. "Will you tell me? Will you tell me about that day? Will you tell me what happened after?"

Cosima knew what she meant, and was uncharacteristically silent.

That dull sense of hurt and near-forgotten anger was rushing back in. Should she give into the undeniable comfort and warmth of reconnecting? Or hold tightly to the understanding and acceptance hard-won in the months after March 2nd? And a version of herself that would find this second fall saccharine, and dangerous.

She tried to push aside the internal conflict, settling for an unsatisfying middle ground: the truth.

"Oh, Delphine." She breathed out the name moreso than she'd meant. "You asked me before if I went. Of course. Of course I went. I saved up all the money from those photography side projects. I was shooting all these indie bands in dingy bars – either promo shots or for the newspaper. I actually made pretty good money that semester. I was determined." Her serious expression had turned quirky and challenging for a moment, remembering her single-minded pursuit. But it immediately fell.

"Yeah. I mean, I bailed on my classes for a week. My family warned me. Thought I was getting ahead of myself, like they claimed I always did." The look on her face was pained, with an edge of anger, and her expression turned challenging again, but without humor. "What do you want me to say, Delphine, I wandered around that train station for almost three days, searching all the places we went together that September." Reliving the moment made her wonder if she'd ever truly been able to process what she lost.

"Felix wanted to kill me for using all our party money to wander alone – again – around Europe." She was fumbling for a lighter tone, reminding herself that she was perfectly fine now.

Delphine thought, desperately, that she could see tears gathering in Cosima's eyes. She could tell the brunette was trying to tamp down her emotions, but the energy of the memory seemed to radiate out. The soft look from Delphine broke Cosima's resolve to play at stoicism, to just recite the facts.

"And you weren't there, Delphine. You weren't there. I just knew you would be. I poured so much into that moment, in you being there. And you weren't there."

Delphine's breath caught in her throat, a deep, old weight settling in her chest. Her body leaned instinctively toward the smaller woman, wanting to offer comfort, unsure if it would be an affront considering she had been the cause of the pain.

She felt all the same emotions pressing in on her too, the belief that she'd been abandoned, the self-doubt, the hollowness. She was paralyzed by it.

"Cosima, I …" she looked down, taking a deep breath, but she had no words to offer the other woman, no excuse she thought worthy. She had just began to form an explanation in her mind, seek some understanding, but Cosima continued, silencing the plea before it reached the blonde's lips.

"I decided that what we shared was a perfect moment, maybe, but that was all it was. Maybe what made it perfect was that it didn't last. And I began to believe that love – love that lasts – doesn't feel like that, that it's more about making a commitment to something, to someone. That's real love."

Delphine felt like she'd been struck. She thought that to fan this last ember they needed to discuss the past, make peace with it. But maybe there was no ember, there was no flame. Maybe Cosima had only wanted closure. Her posture sagged, and her eyes drifted away from the brunette and out to sea. She felt her stomach drop, a weird jolt and hollowness travel from her heart downward. She wanted to pull away, beg off, run to the airport before the brunette could explain just how far beyond that night she'd come.

But Cosima was headlong in storytelling mode, rushing, the story spilling out of her. And Delphine was stuck, feeling desperate, and yet wanting to hear what she had missed.

"So I finished my coursework, and then moved back here. I got back together with Shay, she was an activist at the time. She was involved in everything – from the trivial – do you remember Free the Nipple?" Delphine offered a small, tight smile and nodded. "But also really critical legal fights on the right to access family planning services, adoption rights. We were – are – pretty involved in the community. Things just progressed, you know, and I thought that I could build a life with her in San Francisco. She was kind, smart, sort of a free spirit. We got married about a year after that trip back to Barcelona." Her voice had softened, remembering the adventures they had had, the comfort and kindness the small blonde had offered, once.

Cosima looked out at the waves, the sun hazy on the horizon, an hour or so before sunset, setting the whole beach on fire with an orange glow, more kinetic and alive than seemed appropriate for this awkward, stifling conversation.

"You know, we had a good life together. We both really wanted to adopt, eventually, but we thought we could provide a safe environment and home to older kids sort of immediately. Just being present and available was really important to both of us. Anyway, it took us forever to get through all the paperwork and home visits. Real nightmare." She waved her hand absentmindedly in the air, swiping away the months of forms and frustration.

"We knew a lot of the social services folks from our work with the local government, so they worked with us to place teenagers they thought we could help, and a few younger kids that had just been shuffled around too much. We kept them as long as we could, but most were short-term placements. We were unconventional foster parents probably."

Cosima's signature grin was back, but she was looking away from Delphine, remembering. "Like, you know, Art! Yoga! Science! We always had side projects. We tried to let their interests lead, not ours, so we got involved in some pretty uncharacteristic things. Like little league, football - which I had a real hard time with – and acapella. Acapella groups were just popping up like mushrooms back then. I can pretend it was a slog or distracting, but honestly, we had fun with those kids, and we learned a lot about them and ourselves. Anyway."

Cosima grew quiet, contemplating what to say next. Delphine was enraptured, watching every ripple of concern or humor in the brunette's expression, wondering when or if she should interject, ask for detail, or try to comfort. She understood she should listen, let Cosima explain her history without hindrance. Even so, she couldn't help the brief visions of Cosima on a baseball diamond or football pitch or on a stage doing vocal warm-ups, a small child in tow, her swirling hands explaining in place of words. She tried to picture this other woman beside Cosima, but her mind kept placing her in these visions, gathering the child in an embrace, holding Cosima's hand.

Cosima remained quiet, so Delphine looked up, managing a tentative question. "And ... Shay, are you happy together? Something that you said at the restaurant, I did not know ..." her voice trailed off, not sure exactly what she was asking, or if she wanted the answer.

"Well, you know it just didn't work. After a few years, Shay and I, well, it just became a routine. We moved around each other like we were strangers. The very things that we'd found comforting and endearing about each other were annoying or problematic – we had the same fights over and over. And after a while, we stopped fighting. I wasn't sure what was worse – the arguments or the quiet. It's hard to describe the kind of loneliness you feel when you're sitting right next to another person and they don't see you and you can no longer see them. It made me feel desperate and sad, and I didn't want that for her either. She was – she is - a wonderfully complicated, kind, intelligent woman, we just weren't the right fit, when it came down to it. And no amount of trying was ever going to fix that. It took us a long time to acknowledge that. It was painful."

Cosima turned to look at Delphine now, slowing her story, unsure if she wanted to disclose this much, surprised at how much she had said already. Delphine's expression looked pained, her eyebrows drawn together, her jaw tight, her body had shifted to fully face Cosima while she had been speaking, even as she had been turned away from the blonde.

She realized now that Delphine had clearly been studying her as she spoke. When their eyes met, the brunette tilted her head to the side, a question, but then she let her gaze fall.

"So, we left the program right after Sophie graduated, when things between us were really deteriorating. And that's that."

"Cosima, Cosima, I'm sorry. I am sorry that happened. It is not my place, but I am certain the two of you gave fun and stability and love to the children you brought into your lives. It makes me happy to think of you like that, playing baseball and singing, doing science experiments."

Something in Delphine's words or expression sent a brief wave of boldness through Cosima. "Delphine, that day … It felt just off, didn't it? I remember walking around Barcelona, knowing you weren't coming, and feeling like we had been robbed somehow. I was angry on our behalf, both of us, like Fate had slept in that day."

"Oui, Cosima." She slowly shook her head. "It did not seem fair, it still does not. I had to be where I was, I couldn't leave, but making that decision, now looking back, I wish I could change it. Meeting someone you have a real connection with is rare. You do not realize that when you are younger. You think those connections come easy. But they do not. I think some of us only get one or two in our entire lives. Life ends up being more routine, carefully constructed. Everyone becomes an expert bricklayer, making sure their walls are tight and secure."

They looked at each other closely then, the words dying, overtaken by the sound of softly crashing waves. Delphine was blushing, and her eyes were darting between the brunette's and her lips, her breathing became labored.

She broke their gaze, and struggled to stand. Cosima remained quiet and looked away, still sitting.

Delphine swayed briefly in place, then walked just barely into the surf, letting it wash over her feet as she looked up at the bridge and the faint cast of orange and pink against the wisps of cloud and fog. She tried not to think of yesterday or tomorrow or all the years between them.

She felt the brunette before she heard her, the heat from her body, the energy coming off her. As she turned, she was met by a perplexed, bemused expression.

Without the space between them, Delphine felt her resolve crumbling and she lifted her hand to lightly brush her fingers against Cosima's dreads, her thumb skimming the woman's creased brow, her cheek.

"You are so beautiful, Cosima. You have always been so beautiful."

Cosima reached up to cup Delphine's hand in her own, holding it against her cheek. The moment felt much too heavy, seemed to carry with it the very real possibility of having, only to lose again.

"Come on Delphine, let's go back into the city. I can show you why they still call me the Geek Monkey."


	6. Chapter 6

As they returned to the Embarcadero, Cosima fell back into rapid-fire banter and explanation.

"So, the Exploratorium is this sort of museum, but crossed with a theme park and art gallery. It emphasizes experience, heavy on engaging all your senses for hands-on encounters with science. They do some cool things on the nuances of human perception too, sort of challenging what you think you're seeing."

"Oui, Cosima, I have heard about it. There are a few places similar to it in Europe, but the Exploratorium seems to have really capitalized on this idea. I saw something in my hotel about a new exhibit?

"Yeah, they have some new stuff rotate through here every quarter. But honestly, the coolest stuff is permanent, all the hands-on, tactile experiments and courses. And they have all these programs too to workshop with teachers on different approaches to teaching science. They even have a program for monks. I love this place."

"How long have you been working with this group?"

"Oh, hm, I think this is my third year. I got involved through some teacher friends of mine when one of our boys was in elementary school. It became sort of a popular club for the district, like, beyond all reason."

Cosima guided them along the boardwalk, motioning to a long, oblong-shaped building with a sloping overhang. She pointed, "that's where we are headed. Most of the club's experiments are sanctioned by the group that runs the museum, and they let me use the building once a week."

As they walk up to the back entrance, Cosima pulls a thick card from her bag, an ID card, her teeth-and–tongue baring grin clear on the front. She swipes it and enters a code on the backlit numbers.

As the door chimes them in, she puts a finger to her lips, "I'm not really supposed to be in here when they're closed, so, you know, none of your giggling." She quirks an eyebrow at the blonde who looks at her as if she might defend herself, then drops her shoulders and lets out a soft chuckle.

"Oui. No giggling, Cosima."

As they enter, Delphine looks around, the interior too dim to make out much. When Cosima flicks on the lights, Delphine gasps at the stations that surround them. Stations describing paleontology, physics, biology and the interiors of cells dot the space, outside doors leading into unknown rooms associated with each branch of known science. There was even a rockclimbing wall on the far end of the building, a station on nutrition and exercise next to it.

"Wow, Cosima, this is extraordinary. So much to explore."

"This place is pretty cool. I can bring kids here for a whole school year of Thursdays, and not exhaust this place. Most kids find something that interests them." She lets out a small chuckle, exciting her dreads. "There WAS this one kid though that was a bit too taken with fire. We had to shut that down."

As they walked around, Cosima explains the different stations and exhibits, peppering in stories of children fascinated by little discoveries, curiosity spurred on by new knowledge leading to more and more questions.

Cosima smirks up at Delphine as she points up to the placard over one exhibit, it claims to wrestle with what science says about life's really big questions. "This one is pretty cool, they even added a section on basic biology and epigenetic influence – nature/nurture – to the "How do we become who we are" section."

"Thanks to you, yes?"

"Yeah, I helped them break it down so it was meaningful for the kids. For the nerd kid set, I become slightly cooler when they see that video of me in a lab coat." Her eyes sparkle as her tongue peaks out behind eye teeth.

Delphine reached up and brushed Cosima's dreads behind her shoulder, letting her fingers linger there, "As if the dreads and tattoos weren't enough already?"

As Delphine's fingers brushed her shoulder and neck, Cosima hoped she couldn't sense her heart rate, or how it went from a slightly accelerated thumping to rather out of control at the blonde's touch. "Yeah, yeah, that helps. Made it a little tough at first with some of the parents, but having the title 'Professor' really takes the edge off that vibe. Plus, it's San Fran, so …." she trailed off, but didn't move, Delphine's fingers still resting on her shoulder.

"I love this place, Cosima. Thank you for bringing me here. I can picture you explaining these concepts to the children."

"Cool, yeah, yeah, I wish we could see some of the stations in action, but most of them make a lot of noise. I hoped I could turn on the planetarium, but I don't think we can tonight. There is one exhibit we should check out though."

Cosima gently pulls the door open, motioning for Delphine to enter first. She does, and enters a room in near-total blackness, as Cosima comes in behind her slowly closing the door.

"This room is meant to heighten all your other senses, open the mind beyond sight. I know all the stations, of course. Take a minute, let yourself adjust. We won't be able to see anything, but I promise your safe with me."

She reaches her hand out to find Delphine's, finally coming upon her forearm, and tracing lightly down until she finds her hand, cupping it in hers and leading her to the first station.

The feel of her hand sends Delphine's heart and mind racing. Remembering they are in darkness, she shakes her head slightly, as she breathes out, "alright, Cosima. I trust you."

They make their way to the first station as Cosima guides her to a stop. She pulls her hand away, Delphine's now slightly clammy and chilled at the loss of her.

She feels headphones slipped over her ears, and hears a wash of ambient, light music. A mix of ocean waves, with cries from the deep ocean punctuating the white noise, and light strings and percussion behind it. It is not unlike what she would hear in a spa or from the white noise machine she relies on to get her to sleep at night.

She feels the tension dissipate from her shoulders, from the stressful week of the conference, and the anxiety of seeing Cosima again. She begins to slump slightly, her shoulders dipping along with her head as she listens. After a long moment, where she is certain she has let a sigh or two slip, she feels soft hands teasing at the sheath of hsir by each ear. Cosima gently lifts the cup on her right ear just slightly, still feeling the ghost of Cosima's touch on her left.

"Do you like it," she whispers.

She shivers at the brunette's whisper upon her ear, can think of other times, other reasons she'd like to hear her utter those words. "Mmmmm, oui, Cosima, it is very relaxing. It is a bit perplexing, non? It sounds like an echo, feels infinite."

"Hmmm, exactly," her voice still low and soft, "can you hear the whales and the trills of dolphins underneath?"

"Oui. And is there a heartbeat?" Is that my heartbeat? She only realized that she uttered the thought aloud when the American responded.

"Yes! That is what we ask the kids at the end. What they heard, if they could hear anything underneath the ocean sounds. You are an excellent student, Dr. Cormier."

She reaches her hand up to cup the brunette's as she answers, "I think I have an excellent teacher."

They move to a few of the other stations, focused on touch or smell, the brunette whispering instructions, telling stories. The darkness is like a cocoon, knowing the other can't see, they let their faces relax into expressions that reflect a growing excitement, a growing dread, an ever-present arousal. The darkness too requires proximity that neither have allowed until now.

Cosima leads Delphine through the rooms holding her hand, guides her body into position at each station, her own body ghosting against the taller woman's. She can feel Delphine's breath quicken, can smell the woman's perfume when she leans in to whisper instructions.

Her tone, her words, the explanations are all direct, light-hearted, no undercurrent of flirtation, but every other sense is firing off one clear message: desire. Strong, magnetic, and mutual.

After they have gone to each station they can explore without making too much noise, without crawling, Cosima suggests they head back out into the main hall, tugging her toward the door.

The blonde desperately wanted to pull Cosima to her, to cradle her beautiful, expressive face, and seek her lips in the dark. But she remembered Cosima's reaction to her gesture at the beach, and she is trying to give her space, let Cosima set the pace. Not push or pressure.

She knows now there is only one way this day can end – either she will have rekindled this lost love or her barely-mended heart would break again. This day was going to have implications. There was no getting out of it unchanged.


	7. Chapter 7

As they left the Exploratorium, both thrumming from such close contact with no resolution, Cosima looked away from the taller woman, out to the traffic in the slowly dimming light and spoke wistfully.

"So, like, there is this one last thing you need to see on the water before you leave tonight. Should we go?"

The blonde could already feel the strange pull within her, wanting to experience Cosima longer but knowing she needed to be back in Paris for a Board meeting the next evening, She was counting the hours, the minutes she had left with the brunette, wondering how many memories she could squeeze out of them.

"You tell me. You are my guide, are you not?"

"Okay, okay," she said as she laughed, "so I'm gonna dork out on you again if that's cool?"

"Oui, Cosima, I have always enjoyed these 'dork outs." It was true during their first encounter, and it had been confirmed time and again in recent months as she watched hours of Cosima explain the fundamentals of biology online.

"Alright, well, like the Bay Bridge isn't nearly as picturesque as the Golden Gate Bridge, but in terms of engineering it is no less a feat. But what I want to show you tonight is this totally cool living light sculpture."

Her hands were dancing again, drawing tendrils with her hands from a few feet above her shoulders down to her hips, waving as she went.

"So, like as soon as we get there and the light fades, you'll see it, but there are 25,000 individual little bulbs strewn throughout the cables on the entire bridge. And as night fades in, the lights turn on. But every single night the patterns of the lights is different, making a different impression, a different sort of ephemeral image every time. It's like a symphony, no progression is ever quite the same."

"Who is the artist? Is she like your engineers and Greek scholars from the other bridge?"

"No, unfortunately, the guy that came up with this was a PR representative. But art can come from anywhere right? Doesn't make it any less spectacular."

Cosima led them up the short walk to Pier 7 boasting the perfect view of the Bay Bridge as sunset neared. They both settled into an easy silence, lost in thought .

Delphine had shed the anxious woman she had been earlier in the day, wondering how her speech would be received compounded by the shock of seeing Cosima again. She felt oddly at peace now despite the vague sense of uncertainty.

Their banter, the easy exchange of details – personal, professional, philosophical – was beyond her expectations of what might happen if she ever saw the dreadlocked American again.

Perhaps it wasn't quite living up to the fantasies and dreams she drifted into those first few years, but this reality was beyond her wildest imaginings in that it reforged a broken connection, made more meaningful with the realization that it was still strong after all this time.

She felt understood and accepted and appreciated in a way she had not in years.

And yet. It felt dangerous.

Like sitting at the top of a bend in a roller coaster, on the edge, tilting and scared, but excited, nervous of her own reaction, but willing the fall - now, now, now - before she can change her mind. Being around Cosima seemed to make her want to rush headlong. Into what, she couldn't say. But she knew she was going to be powerless to stop it.

Cosima was feeling a similar rush, and in comparing her expectations and fears with the reality of the day, she felt light, unguarded. She had expected to see a self-confident, self-possessed, successful woman, someone beyond her. She had needed to put the vision of the girl she knew to rest so she could move on. What she found was the woman she imagined her to be, but more. A woman, it seemed, still very much caught up in that night in Barcelona who retained that curious, passionate girl at her core.

She couldn't be sure whether to trust this, to give in to the pull, but she was certain now there was no guile in the blonde. Her words, her actions, her intentions were pure. But they'd had all of that honesty before, and it hadn't been enough. Did she need more assurance? Her younger self had been fearless, but there were only so many times you can lose before you refuse to give again.

They were both quiet as they walked down the pier, passing strangers as they made their way to the dark benches at the end. They saw a few remaining sails trundling out of the bay underneath the long, lean lines of the Bay Bridge as the sun sunk lower and the sky lit up in deep orange.

It had a weird symmetry, this day, Delphine thought, to the one where they met all those years ago. Wandering through a city, strangers, and yet not, talking about their innermost concerns and feelings, and steadfastly ignoring their connection until it broke open between them, refusing to be ignored any longer.

They had both been lost in their thoughts, near each other under the setting sun, but separate, wrestling with the intervening years. They were both shocked by the jostle of a stranger moving between them, enough space now for someone to move easily through.

"Ohh," Delphine said as she looked to the passerby, eyes then locked with Cosima.

They shared a brief glance, heavy and knowing, as Cosima broke the silence. "Let's take that bench?" She said as she pointed to one closest to the edge, facing the bridge. "It has the best view at sunset, and we can see the lightshow."

"Oui, Cosima, that would be nice."

It was all too formal, too charged, too much left unsaid, and the weight of it hung between them as they sat on opposite sides of the bench, their bodies, knees shifted to face each other.

Delphine was looking to her hands, clutching at each other in her lap, a sort of passive, distant look on her face.

"Hey," Cosima ducked her head to catch the other woman's gaze, "what are you thinking?"

She paused a long moment, eyes squinting as she thought about whether to speak. "I am thinking about all these years, Cosima. All these years. It seems unfair somehow. Like you said, something just felt off that we didn't meet again."

"Yeah. I have been wondering …" She trailed off, not sure she wanted to hear the story.

"Oui, and I owe you that explanation." She sighed and looked out at the waves before beginning.

"After we left Barcelona, within the week, I had accepted that position with MSF we discussed. Our conversations, your confidence that I could do it, that I should follow whatever felt right really changed the way I had been thinking about my decision. That someone from outside my small circle – someone whose opinion I immediately valued - would confirm what so many others had been telling me. Well, by the beginning of October, I was in Jordan, working at a clinic they had set up there outside one of the refugee camps."

She closed her eyes at the memories and the frustration she felt. "We were so naïve and idealistic. To not exchange any information! I wanted to speak to you so badly and talk to you about these new experiences, and I had no way of contacting you." She looked at Cosima, shook her head forcefully, and then let her gaze wonder to the sea, the bridge.

"I know, I know. We said we thought that long distance never worked and we'd kill the connection we had if we talked and wrote and stuff. So stupid. I was torn up about that for months. I even looked for you, called around to your school, but they wouldn't give me any information."

"Est-ce vrai? I should have thought of that then! I did think of it later, but by then, my heart was broken," her voice trailed off briefly, still looking away. It felt safer, somehow. "Anyway, by February, I had already booked my flight back to Barcelona. I was taking home leave early to make our date, but you may remember at that time the refugee situation out of Syria was very intense and getting worse."

"We had an influx in the camp near us and outside the next city and they needed more clinicians. I was stuck there. I spoke with Thomas, and he was supposed to deliver a letter to you at the platform, to explain to you where I was. I wanted to come see you in Minnesota or make some other plan."

She looked back from the waves to meet the brunette's gaze, the soft glow of the sunset bathed the smaller woman's features putting a finer point on the remembrance of loss she felt in the camp. She reached out to take Cosima's hand, wanting to assure the brunette that she had wanted to be there - beyond any wish but one in her short life.

"He swore to me, even to this day, that he went to the platform and looked for you, that you were not there. I was never quite sure what happened, he was struggling with an addiction at the time and for a long while after. That was the reason for his dramatic parting from Barcelona. Initially I thought perhaps he had not gone. But he was so insistent, and I became convinced you must not have shown up, that we had shared a moment lost to time. It was easier than thinking it was something we could have had and it was fouled by bad logistics. I did not do well those next few months, but I also did not search for you. That is my regret now. All these years …"

"Oh, Delphine, look, I want to give Thomas a piece of my mind, because there's no way he missed my signs in that train station, but you couldn't have known. I didn't look for you either. God, my heart was broken too, I felt like a fool, just assumed you'd moved on. And that what we shared, was, I dunno, just a fling. I am sure you felt the same way?"

"Oui, the idea of you not showing up confirmed all my anxieties about that night, all my concerns. That I had felt too strongly, acted childishly, been caught up because of all the stress and emotion of that week. Even saying it now, I can feel that feeling of shame, embarrassment."

The story was streaming out her now, earnestly. But she was faltering, hearing Cosima's words from only an hour before, tripping up the feelings she wanted to share.

"But, but, you said this too. You said you felt what we shared was only. Was only." She wasn't gasping outwardly, but she could feel the ebb more than the flow from her lungs, desperate and unsure.

"Only a moment in time, not real. Is that how you feel, Cosima? Was it just a beautiful moment during your travels?"

"Oh, god, Delphine. Listen, like, what I described was how I felt immediately after everything happened, how and why Shay and I got together. I don't blame either of us for any of that, and I don't hold onto it. I came to see you today because I wanted to see you. Because I knew you would have moved on and become someone incredible." She was smiling reassurance at the blonde, but Delphine's gaze was dark and conflicted.

"I tried to move on, Cosima." The pause was pregnant, but Cosima knew to remain silent. "I met a photographer from Belgium. Bastian."

Her body grew slightly rigid and she leaned almost imperceptibly away from the blonde.

"He was assigned to our team, to profile us while I was there. He approached me first, saying he couldn't help but notice I looked … lovesick. That was his word. Honestly, I was always thinking of you, and I had a soft spot for these photojournalists …" Her brow quirked briefly upward, but her story was too laden for much mirth.

"My colleagues noted it immediately, and when I didn't defend or explain myself, they came up with these fantastical backstories on their own. I found out … much later … that they steered him to me."

"He had been interested, and they joked that I could never turn down a photographer. I had not been with anyone, mind you, I was simply friends with all of the photographers near camp."

"Anyway, we became attached, spending our evenings smoking together, talking. I spoke of you, and he didn't respond like many of the other photojournalists I had known, not … um, macho … but very tender."

Cosima nearly flinched at that word, biting the inside of her cheek to steady herself.

"I finished my first tour, took a second in Turkey where he was shooting. I was ready for immunology by that point, ready for that next chapter. I moved back to Paris for my studies."

Cosima's gaze grew serious, still attentive, but darker somehow. She was expecting some detail, some revelation that would crush the daydreams that had been building in her mind all day.

"He moved in after some time, and then he proposed. A very sweet man."

"Yes," Cosima blurted out. "I remember seeing an article about you a few years ago when the trials started. They mentioned your fiancé." Her voice trailed off, color rising on her chest and neck as her whole body flushed red. She looked down again at Delphine's left hand, convincing herself she saw no ring. Her gaze was lingering, she knew, and she looked quickly to Delphine's right hand, unsure which was customary.

To deflect, she stumbled out, "Um, your work was pretty hard to ignore. Of course I knew it was you, even before the magazines and monthlies started finding ways to incorporate your photo with every piece." She waved her hand as if explaining, "the story of your mom," her voice became a whisper as she said it. "But I remembered seeing that about your engagement."

"Cosima." Seeing the woman's searching glances, she reached out to lightly cup her hand. "I am not married."

Cosima closed her eyes briefly, couldn't help hearing parallels to that morning when Delphine mumbled, "Ma cherie, I am not sick." . And at once her breath hitched and her heart ached. All this missed time, all these things that happened in between.

She looked up at the blonde blankly, so Delphine continued slowly, cautiously, her hand still on the American. "As we started planning the wedding, I couldn't get you out of my mind. I thought I was simply going mad. It had been almost three years by that time, and I thought that I had moved on. We were looking for venues, and his family is religious, so we were looking at Catholic churches around Paris. We toured this one place, a beautiful 18th century church. And there was a moment where the light came through the stained glass windows and the light fell on him."

"At that moment I remembered La Sagrada Familia. I saw you spinning in those lights and," she paused, her eyes dropped, she continued softly, almost a whisper, "he wasn't you."

She went silent and still. Self-conscious, but feeling oddly liberated, finally able to say to the one person who mattered what happened to her that day, why she had changed her mind so abruptly.

She met Cosima's eyes, whose look suggested disbelief, guarded again at hearing her story, but her eyes softened the longer Delphine held her gaze. Delphine's slow speech was abandoned now, as she spoke, an urgency overtaking her tone.

"I tried to shake it off. But it really was over then. I looked up at the stars at night and thought of Beta Delphini. I happened upon Cosmos from Neil deGrasse Tyson you know? Your favorite – I remembered. And I watched every episode in two days. I cared for Bastian. I did care him, and he was a good man."

She looked away and softly gripped her bottom lip, letting out a long, slow sigh.

"But it wasn't right. And I thought after … I've thought for the past few years, that maybe love was not for me." She looked up at Cosima briefly, her eyes were unsure, pleading again, but there was also a slight edge of hostility. "That I would never be able to feel all these things again that I felt for you that night. That I gave them to you somehow and you took them with you when you left Barcelona."

"I think I accepted the keynote at the Congress in some small way to try to find you. I knew you were here, or I thought you were. And I have been trying to work up the nerve to track you down since I got into town. But I am a coward."

Then Delphine was looking away again, eyes brimming with tears, unsure if this conversation was inappropriate or absolutely essential. Cosima could see tears glinting in the dying light, brightening her hazel eyes.

"Jesus, Delphine."

Her sharp tone and her words made the French woman self-conscious, wilt inwardly. She had gone too far, said too much considering the single night they spent together. Delphine's mind was racing, trying to determine if she'd misread Cosima's words earlier. She had moved on, clearly.

I have made a fool of myself.

As she turned back to speak, Cosima was leaning toward her, fingers outstretched, ghosting over her hair, as if she wanted to pull the blonde into her. As their eyes met, Cosima cupped her cheek, pinky just barely brushing her ear, and she looked her in the eye, searching. She moved in slowly, leaning her forehead to touch Delphine's first, tilting her head to nudge Delphine's nose with her own.

When she saw Delphine's eyes drift closed, felt the air across her own lips as Delphine gasped, she closed the barest of distance between them and kissed her. She wanted to kiss away the years that came between them, the misunderstandings and missed opportunities.

The kiss grew fervent, ignoring the strangers on the pier. Both their hands drifted behind the other, grasping at the back of each other's necks, mutually pulling the other into a deeper kiss, pressing their bodies flush together. As they held each other, the setting sun lit the sky behind them on fire and the dancing lights on the bridge flashed to life. When Cosima's tongue lightly grazed her lips, Delphine welcomed her, pulling her into closer contact as she willed the woman to feel what she was feeling.

With the truth now laid before them, a mutual acknowledgement of their remaining feelings, there was less fear, no more embarrassment. Just a wave of desire finally breaking through walls built by years of denial.

After a long moment, they began to part, arms still clinging to the other, their foreheads touching. Cosima could see now the thin trail of tears Delphine shed as they kissed. She brought her thumb up to lightly brush them away, thought better of it, and kissed instead, at her jaw, up to the corner of her eye.

"I am so glad we found each other again, Delphine, if only to hear from you that what happened that night between us wasn't all in my head."

"No, Cosima, I was there too. I felt it."

Cosima's phone began to vibrant and let out a soft ding. "Oh god, why does this keep happening?" She held up the phone to show the alarm reminding them that Delphine had a plane to catch.


	8. Chapter 8

As the light from the phone broke their reverie, Delphine shook her head and knit her brow as she took in Cosima's frustrated expression.

"Ma cherie, I do not need to go now. They have me arriving hours early. I will just sit in the terminal alone, wishing I had seen more of San Francisco with you. I still have at least an hour. Maybe we can grab some coffee or tea somewhere. Talk?"

Cosima let out a light sigh, she didn't want to say goodbye yet either, but doubted the blonde had that much time to spare. "Okay, look, my place isn't far from here. Why don't we head there, we can have a taxi take you directly to your hotel and airport after tea, yeah?"

"Oui, Cosima, I would love to see your home."

They stole one last glance out into the bay, the blues and deep purples of twilight making the lights on the bridge pop as they swirled through their paces, creating patterns that lasted only a moment and then were gone.

Delphine walked away from Cosima then and leaned out over the side, her hands stretched away from her body gripping the railing, taking in the sight. The breeze caught her hair, sweeping it behind her to gather over her right shoulder. As she watched the lights dance, she felt warm, strong hands caress down from her naked shoulders to her fingers, setting goosebumps in their wake. Cosima rested her hands atop the blonde's and entwined their fingers, pressing her body flush to her back and nestling her nose just at the crook of her neck, breathing in lavender and sea salt.

"I have never enjoyed this view more in my entire life, Delphine."

Delphine smiled at her words, still looking out, but dipping her head to touch Cosima's as she pulled their entwined hands across her body in an embrace. She breathed in, the barest scent of sandalwood and Cosima on the salty air. Enveloped in the scent, she closed her eyes, the lights dancing just behind her sense of sight, emotions heightened by the memory of it as she felt strong arms hold her tight.

They stayed like that for a long moment, holding each other and looking out as the last light faded fast from the Bay. Then Cosima placed a soft kiss to the taller woman's shoulder, squeezed one last time, and suggested they head out.

They walked back to the Embarcadero and easily caught the Market Street cable car for a quick ride into the Mission. Cosima continued peppering their conversation with asides of the history of the Mission and how things had changed so dramatically in the past few decades, sped by the recent influx from Silicon Valley, but her tone was soft now, the words a whisper as she leaned in closely to the blonde. They looked out the window, the lights of the city blurring as they rode and swayed into each other. The trip was short, and before Delphine realized where they were, Cosima was guiding her out of the car. They traded sidelong glances and brushed against each other as they walked.

As they neared a colorful blue Victorian townhouse, lit now only by streetlamps, Delphine could see it was nestled between similarly vibrant townhomes. Cosima began rambling, shifting her bag as she looked back to the blonde. "Okay, look, it's maybe a liiittle messy." She wasn't apologizing exactly, but was clearly a little nervous of what she would make of her place, a little disheveled, a little chaotic.

She was wondering what the blonde would make of it. Delphine's flat, in her mind's eye, was an open floor-plan, exposed beams, plenty of light, probably an awesome view, filled, maybe, with black-and-white prints. Certainly spotless. Basically the opposite of her own.

"Oh Cosima, I don't mind. I'm excited to see where you live." She ducked her head as she spoke, causing her blonde hair to fall into her face in a golden sheath. Cosima quivered a bit at the sight. "I have wondered what it might be like."

Cosima grinned then, but caught herself mid-reverie. "OK, OK, but like, just tea, okay? And then we are calling you a cab to get you to the airport on time, alright?"

"Oui. Just tea."

Cosima turned the key, the door brushing back a few narrow envelopes that had fallen through the mail slot. She flicked on a lamp and immediately flung her bag down in the narrow hallway, underneath a small wooden bench, framed overhead by a small shelf and neat row of hooks just above eye-level.

As Delphine walked in, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim interior. A smile, small at first, then growing, spread across her face. She dropped her bags onto the bench and looked around. The narrow hall led to the main living room off to the left, a small dining area immediately across it to the right, and further back was the entrance to what seemed to be the kitchen. Directly down the hallway were the stairs. To the bedroom she assumed.

She heard a light meow from deep in the house as a charcoal and grey tabby cat walked lazily into the foyer, rubbing against Cosima's leg. "Hey, Scout, I'll be right with ya girl." Turning to Delphine, she said, "She is a sweetheart, but she is very impatient when hungry." Cosima swept the small cat into her arms and stroked her head playfully eliciting an immediate, deep purr.

With her attention captured by Scout, Delphine took the opportunity to look around. Along the long hallway were two silk tapestries, intricately woven with dark pinks, lavender, and navy on a cream background hanging from ornately carved dark wood. The tapestries flanked a print of a stone archway at sunset, a massive face carved at its apex. The arch was surrounded by undisturbed green forest, a long path receding into the distance through the opening, while beams of light reflected in dust motes around and between ancient stone.

Delphine stopped in front of it, fingers drawn unconsciously to ghost over the lines of light. "This is beautiful Cosima. The temple should be the focus, non? But the light is … the light is like its own character." She pointed at the print and turned to look back at Cosima who was blushing a bit, "Is this yours?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. I took a trip to Southeast Asia as sort of a celebration after I defended my dissertation. That's at Angkor Thom, the West Gate actually, not really a temple. It was hard to take a bad photograph there … everything was breathtaking"

"So beautiful, Cosima." Delphine wasn't sure if she was talking about the photograph, the woman in front of her, or the fact that a moment where they met again, after all this time, even existed.

Both of them paused, looking a little too long, a little self-consciously, but happy. Then Cosima's eyes crinkled, her tongue slightly peeking out as her grin grew wider. "Um, thank you. Uh, let me take your jacket," she reached out, "you can sit right there," she pointed in to the living room to the well-worn, plush sofa, "and I will get your tea."

Delphine breathed out a small laugh as she slinked out of her blazer, revealing again the cream silk blouse beneath.

"Merci, Cosima. My feet are killing me. Do you mind?" She pointed down to her heels, wincing just slightly behind her smile.

Cosima hadn't thought of the absolutely impractical footwear the tall woman was wearing as they walked through San Francisco, thinking now that it must have been sheer strength of will that carried Delphine this far.

"Oh, god, yes, yes, please. Mi casa es su casa." She waved, smirking. "Make yourself comfortable. God, how do you even wear those things?"

"I don't know honestly. I considered not putting them back on after the beach. I nearly toppled near the museum in particular. You were running so fast!"

Cosima chuckled, then looked down guiltily, "I am so sorry. I, um …" She gestured to her own footwear, supple, winged flats, completely suitable to the hilly terrain, the walkable city. "I wear totally reasonable shoes, so I didn't even think," her hand spun up at the last as she smirked.

As the blonde pulled off her shoes, and sank a good three inches, Cosima walked back to the kitchen, Scout following close behind. Delphine wandered into the living room, a small open doorway connecting it to the kitchen through the far, back wall to her right.

The deep brown sofa felt like suede, soft and inviting, if lightly worn. Delphine let her fingers slide along the side as she looked around the room, eyes settling on the abstract oil painting on the main wall, an odd, barely recognizable rendering of the periodic table. And then to a long, low book shelf, filled on the bottom with biology texts, scifi novels, and a cloth-bound volume she could tell from the spine was Cosima's dissertation. The top shelf was filled with vinyl records – 78s it seemed – with a new wood and chrome turntable on top by the arm of the sofa.

One side wall was set apart – a burgundy accent – but all were covered with seemingly random artwork – ceremonial masks on one wall, opposite a 16x20 architectural sketch of a nautilus. The room exuded a sort of chaotic curiosity, little examples of what Cosima found fascinating. There was deep swivel armchair, dark leather and cream suede, set off to the side of the sofa with a perfect view of the whole room, and that is where Delphine settled. She had been so distracted by her surroundings, taking in the warmth and personality of the space – so perfectly fitting for Cosima – that she only now heard the slight humming coming from the other room.

She fell a little deeper at the sound, deeper into the chair, letting the day pool around her. But deeper also into the spiral that was Cosima, deeper than she'd allowed herself to fall the whole afternoon. Cosima was lightly humming to herself as she poured the water, settled the kettle on the stove, and rustled through the cabinet for several mugs. Delphine was staring at the doorway, slightly unfocused, in a daydream, when Cosima popped around the corner, her dreads swaying as she tilted her head with half her body still hidden in the kitchen.

Delphine jumped a little as she turned her eyes to the small brunette, an instant, broad grin on her face.

"Um, so …" she looked down at sachets in her hand, "earl grey, chamomile, green tea, rooibos, let's see, mint, um breakfast," she scrunched her nose at the last, dismissively. "What'll ya have?"

"Mmmm, rooibos would be perfect actually."

"Ahh, good choice mademoiselle Cormier. Let me guess, with a little bit of honey?"

Delphine nodded gamely, thinking cream would be better, but not wanting to ruin the brunette's moment of glee at having guessed her taste.

As she disappeared again, Delphine's eyes settled on a row of two long black shelves, one on top of the other, set low into the burgundy wall. They were filled with photos of Cosima with friends, family perhaps, several small children on a baseball field. As she rose to take a closer look, she grinned at a photo of Cosima – a girl of nine or ten – with her small hands wrapped around a white bucket, teeming with small Labrador puppies, peeking up around the edges with their paws thrown over the edge. She was grinning, and in the background, high above her, there was a small boy leaning out a treehouse window looking down with his arms outstretched. As she looked closer she could tell there was a rope tied around the bucket handle, leading up to the treehouse window. Noooo she thought, and laughed silently.

Then her breath caught. Her hands went possessively out to the last black and white photograph, the thin black frame nestled in the corner, tucked behind the others. She grabbed it and drew it closer. She traced her fingers along dreads, a wide, canine-bearing grin. Tumbling over Cosima's shoulders were wild blonde curls belonging to a younger version of herself, nuzzled into the smaller woman's neck, peering up at the camera. God, I was so young. She shook her head, fingers never leaving the frame.

Cosima walked in then, a huge steaming mug in each hand.

"Ohhh." She stopped dead, looking at the profile of the beautiful blonde, bent over that photograph, entranced.

Delphine whipped her head up, her eyes knitting together just slightly as she pulled her bottom lip fully between teeth and met Cosima's eyes. Her large hazel eyes were glistening. She stammered, "what, what … Cosima, what is this?"

The brunette stopped to settle the two mugs on the end table and composed herself. "Delphine, I, I, um," she pushed her glasses up her nose, as she tilted her head up, smiled at the blonde a bit sheepishly, and held her arms up in a shrug.

"You kept it, all this time?"

"Of course I did, Delphine." She breathed the words, looking Delphine directly in the eye, her own pupils bleeding black into hazel.

The blonde was already moving toward her, closing the distance quickly, but stopping as she came within inches of the brunette. She reached out, fingers lightly tracing Cosima's jaw, thumb tracing her lips as they had so many years before. She fully cupped her face then, pulling her chin up to search her eyes for hesitancy. She pressed her lips to Cosima's, soft and slow.

But the kiss grew fervent almost immediately, each needing to feel their own desire mirrored. Delphine pressed Cosima against the wall, fingers drifting to her hips, locking around them, grasping for some hold, something permanent. Her lips parted to welcome the brunette, as she felt warm fingers drift just under her blouse, stroking her lower back and hips. She lifted her thigh, just slightly, and pressed it against Cosima's core as she pulled the brunette's lower lip between her own and nipped playfully. Cosima let out a low moan and splayed her hands fully against the blonde's pale skin, pulling her even closer and increasing such delicious friction.

Just as abruptly as she'd pressed Cosima against the wall, she was pulling away, leaning her forehead against the brunette, and breathed in slowly. "Ohhh, Cosima," she breathed her name, so many unnamable emotions creeping in. "I don't know. Are you attached? I'm so sorry, I don't even know."

She really didn't care in many ways, but they were about to tumble off a cliff, and she was trying to slow down the encounter, get a grip on her thoughts, seek some explicit consent to pursuing whatever it was they were pursuing.

When she broke off the kiss, Cosima hadn't been sure if Delphine was having second thoughts, was overwhelmed, or wanted Cosima to respond in some specific way. Knowing now, she reached out to her, stroked the French woman's long arm with her left hand, and sought her fingers with the right.

"No, Delphine, no. I am not attached."

Delphine looked down at their entwined fingers and confessed, "Cosima, I still have that napkin with the poem. And that watercolor of us in Barri Gotic. I could never bring myself to get rid of them." Her gaze still averted, watering, "In all my daydreams of you, I never dreamt you kept something of us too."

Cosima leaned up on her toes, brushing her fingers through soft strands, and brushed her lips just barely against the other woman's once, twice. Then she laced her fingers through Delphine's and walked toward the stairs.

"Come."


	9. Chapter 9

Cosima lightly gripped her hand pulling her into the hallway. She stopped on the second stair to look back at the blonde.

Delphine's eyes lingered on that smile, framed by dreadlocks, and her remaining hesitancy fell away at once. It was strange how easily it slipped away considering how long she'd felt its weight. She could see the same transformation in the woman before her.

Cosima met her gaze and nodded just once, waiting for Delphine's assent. The blonde pulled her lower lip firmly between her teeth as she squeezed Cosima's hand. She let herself be led up the stairs slowly. There was no need to rush, they both knew the other was fully present, and both wanted to savor every implausible moment.

Cosima's room was dimly lit by a lamp on the far wall, the large oak bed covered by crimson sheets and a grey, patterned duvet. Delphine noticed little else, her attention drawn back to the small woman leading her.

Cosima turned Delphine so the back of her knees hit the lip of the bed as she raised her free hand to brush blonde hair behind her shoulder, exposing the long expanse of tender pale skin at her shoulder. Her fingers ghosted along the shell of her ear, down the curve of her neck. The brunette's gaze followed her fingers, a small, predatory smile on her face. When her eyes finally made it back to the blonde's face, she found a look spilling over with tenderness, a small smile playing on the French woman's lips as well.

Cosima finally broke the reverie, "I know there is still a lot to talk about. I know this might just complicate things, but, can we pretend for tonight that none of those complications exist?"

Delphine's smile grew, and she released Cosima's hand to cradle both cheeks in her palms. She drew her up for a soft kiss, releasing and claiming her lips over and again. Neither woman moved to deepen it. Delphine let her hands trail down to Cosima's shoulders, down along the outline of her bra to the dip of her abdomen and along the curve of her hip through her clothes. As she did, Cosima's body shifted, pulling herself flush, slotting perfectly into the hollows of Delphine's willowy body.

Cosima's hands resumed their roaming, caressing up her hips, to her lower back, her fingers brushing the ends of her long hair as she broke the kiss, finding her neck, tentatively placing lingering kisses to the blushing skin, and letting her tongue dart out every now and then to taste her salt.

Small moaning whispers were coming from the blonde every time Cosima's tongue made contact. She was flushing, could feel warmth pooling at her core. So little could do so much. She knew from experience that distant memories and imagined moments could make her ache for a touch she thought she'd never have again. Now that it was within her reach, she wanted to draw it out, live in this moment forever. Every brush of the brunette's lips and tongue set a fire burning under her skin.

They were dancing around each other, light touches, soft kisses, but it wasn't tentative, they were simply enjoying the time they had, remembering each other's contours, their sounds of pleasure, both wondering how those sounds might change through the night.

Delphine's hands had a mind of their own, seeking more quickly to feel skin, she pressed her hands flat and firmly around the brunette's hips, fingers dipping just below the waste of her slacks, hungrily searching for the soft curve of her ass. Cosima responded by pressing herself more firmly into Delphine, slipping between long legs to feel a distinct warmth against her thigh. Delphine moaned softly as she cupped the brunette's ass.

"Hmm, Dr. Cormier, you like that?"

"I like everything about you cheri."

"Tell me." Her eyes widened and brightened for a moment as she grinned.

She knew the brunette was urging the kind of words you utter in the most intimate of spaces, but her mind was overflowing with tender ones instead.

"I love the way you smell, Cosima, like a field after it rains." She leaned in to place a kiss to Cosima's neck, breathing in as she raked her nose up the curve of it.

As the blonde pulled back to look at her, Cosima was staring, mouth slightly open, completely in awe at the juxtaposition of tender words and lustful hands. That strange, intoxicating mix of comfort and desire and passion was bubbling up within her.

"I love the way you smile, every time, like it is the happiest moment of your life, like you have won some game to which only you know the rules." She kissed her lips tenderly and moved her hands up now to stroke the curve of Cosima's stomach under her blouse.

"I love the way you see the world. The beauty, yes, but the pain too." She kissed just inside her temple, Cosima's lash brushing the blonde's lips as she blinked.

"I love your heart, so full you give it freely to those who need you." At this Delphine slowly sank to the edge of the bed, pulling the smaller woman to her as she kissed the center of Cosima's chest through her top then laid her cheek there, her words spent.

Cosima stroked the long elegant slope of the French woman's back with one hand as her other brushed blonde hair, overcome and trying to get a grip on her emotions. It was truly baffling how little time she had spent with this woman. How overcome she was, inexplicably, with passion and understanding and a strong desire to never leave her side.

Was this always love at first sight? Is this my second chance? What the hell am I doing?

She started to question, again, the existence of this kind of connection, rationalize it by means of dopamine receptors and oxytocin levels, but then her eyes met Delphine's looking up at her with a quiet, tentative expression searching for how her words were received. And she didn't question anymore. Whatever this was, chemical reaction, cosmic intervention, an unknown divine force, it was real. And it was looking back at her.

She sank to her knees her eyes nearly level with the blonde's and drew her into a passionate kiss, tongue seeking entrance for the first time since they reached the stairs.

Her fingers were clinging to the blonde's strong arms as the kiss deepened and lingered. Her hands drifted to the blonde's long thighs at some point, caressing up, then down the length of them, gripping and releasing.

Cosima wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, it felt like hours, and like mere moments. But eventually her fingers slipped underneath Delphine's silk top, eagerly dragging her fingers up, the fabric gathering around her wrists until Delphine broke their kiss to let Cosima push it up and off of her. The blonde immediately reached behind herself to unclasp her bra, leaving her exposed.

Cosima's lips met the soft flesh, flicking and sucking the tight, sensitive pebbles, one then the other. Delphine let out a low moan shifting her body to bring her into closer contact, shifting so far that she slipped off the bed, tumbling onto the small dreadlocked woman now laughing beneath her, clinging to the blonde's bare back.

"Merde. Oh, ma cherie. Désolé."

Cosima was still laughing, stroking pale skin. "It is so hot when you speak French. And it's totally okay. You simply couldn't resist … this," she said as she gestured to her body, fully clothed, and splayed out on the floor.

"You are right, Cosima, I cannot resist." She quirked an eyebrow as a long finger and thumb moved to unzip Cosima's slacks. The brunette's smile faded, replaced by something darker as she lifted her hips and her pants slipped off quickly. Cosima pulled her top off in one easy movement, her eyes locked with the blonde's the humor of the moment evaporating, replaced by something more pointed, something closely resembling need.

The sight of Cosima in black lace shorts undid Delphine's resolve to take things slow and bask in the moment, her hand immediately cupped heat and noted the dampened the fabric. She inhaled deeply as she bit her lip and looked into darkening brown eyes. She leaned over her, splayed on the floor by her bed, and kissed her as her fingers teased through thin fabric.

"Hmmm, you feel so good," she mumbled against her lips.

Cosima could scarcely contain her desire at the woman's words and actions, seemingly more confident and direct, certain of what she wanted. And the planes of exposed ivory skin, not enough, yet sparking a desire in Cosima to touch and be touched, to know every inch of Delphine.

They both felt inexplicable comfort in this new proximity, the playful banter as well as the heat between them like coming home.

As Cosima arched into the blonde's light, teasing touch, she brought her own hand between their bodies to brush against an erect nipple, skimming across one, then the other before bringing her tongue to circle and flick. Her hands were running along Delphine's torso, along her lower back, up to her shoulders and down her lean arms as her mouth worked and she felt the blonde's body respond to her touch.

Releasing her, she said, "Baby, let's move this to the bed, yeah? Not that I don't love that you want to take me on the floor, but we'll be more comfortable."

Delphine nodded, as she moved to disentangle herself from the smaller woman.

"And while we're at it, let's get these off of you," she said, tugging on the woman's navy slacks.

"Oui, I seem to be overdressed," she winked as she stood up.

She began to unclasp her own belt, but a nimble hand stopped her. "Can I? Please?"

Delphine nodded and licked her lips, running her hands along Cosima's shoulders and down her arms as she watched her unloop the belt, unzip her. As her slacks fell to the ground, Cosima pushed Delphine back just slightly as her knees met the bed again, their eyes locked as they moved. She scooted back to make room for Cosima, who was pulling herself up and over Delphine's body, a cheeky grin on her face that spoke clearly of mischief and lust. Delphine felt a desperate wave of need course through her at that cheeky grin.

Cosima stilled momentarily on her journey to unclasp and dispose of her own bra, exposing her dusky nipples, already pebbling. Cosima's thigh pressed firmly between the blonde's, who gasped at the contact. Cosima leaned her weight onto one hand, and with the other traced lean, milky curves while her eyes lingered at the dip of her hip, her toned abdominals, the tender peaks straining to be touched. Delphine watched her looking, blushing at her careful regard.

Cosima slowly shook her head, smiling, "You really are breathtaking. I can't believe you're here with me."

Delphine cupped her face lightly, and brushed her thumb over her lip, her fingers lingering above her brow and smiled. "You are the beautiful one. And your hands," she caught the brunette's fingers in her own and brought them to her mouth, kissing each digit before sucking her index and middle finger into her mouth, a languid tongue circling each. She raised an eyebrow at Cosima as she let them go with a pop, "they dance when you talk, and make me think things I should not think in public." Her voice was low and rough, and Cosima felt her body flush hot at the sound and the sight of the blonde beneath her.

Delphine held her hand fast and shifted their weight, rolling Cosima so she now sat atop her, grinning the whole time. She laughed as she leaned down to pull Cosima into a searing kiss, her hair falling in waves around them as their tongues battled for dominance, and their bodies pressed and moved into each other, craving closer contact.

Cosima reached between them to stroke at the blonde, moving the thin fabric aside to feel her swollen and wet, open and ready. Delphine gasped, letting out a soft moan and instinctually rolling her hips. But she broke the kiss and found Cosima's eyes as she stroked her. "Hmmm, please, I want to feel you first. I want to make you come for me."

Cosima's fingers didn't stop their ministrations for a moment, sliding in the blonde's arousal, teasing her and wanting so badly to press forward and feel her from the inside. "But you're so wet, babe."

She placed her own hand underneath Cosima's shorts, pushing them down. Cosima lifted her hips to help while moving her fingers to tug at the blonde's panties as well. They separated briefly and shed their last bit of clothing, settling back into the same position.

Both of their hands went to cup the other, a question on the brunette's face and clear intention on the blonde's.

"Together then?" Delphine questioned, as her fingers slipped along Cosima, swirling at her clit, and moving lazily to her opening, and back again. Cosima nodded, her fingers already slick with arousal, finding her entrance quickly and pausing so they could slide into each other at the same time.

Cosima felt starbursts behind her eyes and electricity sparkling down her spine as she slipped inside. She could feel Delphine's inner walls pulse once in response to her stroking fingers. The responsiveness of the blonde's body paired with the sensation of the long, delicate finger curling into her own walls had her moaning deeply. She opened her eyes to see Delphine looking down at her with an earnest, soft expression as she moved her finger out and in again, curling as she pulled out, twice, three times before adding another finger and pressing deeper.

Cosima moved slowly within the blonde, but the angle was wrong, and all she was doing was teasing and straining her own wrist, one she would need later, so she pulled out, playfully circling her clit for a moment before laying herself open for Delphine.

Delphine smiled at her acquiescence, and brought her mouth to Cosima's as she moved her fingers with purpose. Cosima's hands knotted firmly in her hair and clutched at her back. She pulled her knees up and out, gasping at the new depth Delphine reached with greater access.

Delphine's pace quickened as she felt the brunette stiffen beneath her, adding a third finger and pressing her palm more forcefully into her clit with each thrust. Her fingers were sliding easily, the small woman's arousal growing. The room was filled with the sounds of Cosima's breathy moans and Delphine's wet fingers thrusting into her.

She brought her lips to Cosima's erect nipple, gripping lightly with her teeth and flicking with her tongue as she pressed deeply with her fingers, stroking up each time she pulled out.

The sensations clashed together, tongue laving her aching nipple, thumb pulsing against her swollen clit, and confident fingers tapping out a sacred beat against her inner walls. Cosima came forcefully, her back arching as she let out a mixture of moans and whimpers. Delphine felt her spasm, clutching, but kept moving within her at a slower, steady pace pulling every bit of pleasure from her lover.

As she came down, the blonde pulled out and draped along the brunette's side.

"You feel so good, Cosima. The way your body responds. Mon dieu, you are beautiful when you come."

When she recovered, after brief whispers of affection, Cosima moved to straddle her, the blonde responding with soft mewling sounds of anticipation. Her arousal was slick between them. As Cosima rocked against her, the wanting grew, evident from sympathetic rock of Delphine's hips.

"Hmm baby, you want this?" Cosima cooed playfully as she drew both hands above the blonde's head and held them taut against the bed. Her soft blonde hair was pooled around her in a halo. Cosima placed her lips on the blonde's neck, nose brushing lightly against hair, seeking the scent and pulse point she remembered loving so long ago.

"Oui, Cosima. Je veux que tu me prennes." I want you to take me.

She let her hands roam lightly, playfully over the beautiful woman before her. She wanted to make her wait, tease her. "I don't know what you said, but since you wanted to go first, my eager girl, now you will have to wait." The blonde bit her lip at that, rolled her hips, and groaned.

She nipped at the French woman's lip, just once, then peppered her jaw, her neck, her chest with open-mouthed kisses, tongue peaking out to taste. She blew over exposed, dewey skin, shivers and small, unconscious whimpers her reward. As she moved over the blonde who was obediently holding her hands still above her head, she reached into the drawer of the bedside table, the blonde's lids hooded as she watched her. Cosima pulled out a long grey and white feather, grinning as she brushed it along the woman's jaw, the intent and plan to tease her clear from the brunette's expression.

Her gaze grew serious for just a moment. "This okay? I think you might enjoy it, but you call the shots here okay?"

Delphine almost laughed. She suspected this was the least of the antics at the brunette's disposal, but she felt a different kind of warmth spreading as she considered the woman's hesitation, her concern, that she sought her approval. "Oui, Cosima, I am not scared of a feather. I asked you to take me. I meant it."

"Oh my god." You really are perfect. Brilliant, adorable, sexy as hell.

Cosima teased, brushing the feather around her nipples, done her toned stomach, tickling her inner thigh. Delphine was still rocking her hips, seeking greater pressure, her legs splayed under Cosima who was straddling her thighs.

Cosima clucked her tongue, "ah, ah ah, not yet." Then she just barely grazed her slit with the feather, back to the curve of her ass, as her fingers barely grazed painfully tight nipples. She was driving her crazy, the pressure coiling and growing. She repeated the action once, twice, and the look on Delphine's face turned from playful to frustrated.

Every brush of Cosima's expressive fingers across her breast, the light touch of feather on her spread thighs, it all sent sparks through her, electricity dancing across skin and gathering at her core. She felt she might come undone as soon as the brunette touched her where she needed her the most. She wanted to feel this brilliant coiling pressure and the release she knew was coming, again and again and again.

"Cosima, mmmmm, take me. Maintenant. S'il te plait. S'il te plait." She moaned the last.

Cosima's resolve didn't last long, she wanted to feel her as much as the blonde needed her touch. She abandoned the feather and slid down her body immediately, bringing her lips to brush softly against her clit. Delphine let out a strangled cry, followed by French whispers unknown to the brunette.

She stroked languidly with her tongue for a moment, tasting thick arousal before teasing her entrance, finding her impossibly swollen. She sunk two fingers into her at once, her mouth still moving against her. The blonde let out appreciative moans and whimpers and arched into her pace.

"Plus forte. Harder."

Cosima grinned, thrusting forcefully and stroking deeply, her thumb replacing her lips to brush the sensitive bundle of nerves. She moved up the blonde's body to lay open-mouthed kisses on her neck, suck at her pulse point. Delphine's hands wrapped around her shoulders and threaded through her dreads to bring their mouths together forcefully. Cosima swallowed a moan from the blonde as her body began to tremble. It didn't take long for her to tip over the edge, a forceful release followed by a slow wave of pleasure.

"Mon dieu," the blonde sighed as Cosima nuzzled into her neck. She ran a clammy palm through her hair, wild and sweaty at her temples, and wrapped another arm tightly around Cosima.


	10. Chapter 10

"How are ya doing, babe? Can I get you anything?"

"Mmmm. I am perfect, ma cherie. But I am so hungry. I could kill for some ice cream."

"Mmmm. Ice cream?" She asked as she slinked out of bed, leaned into the door to the bathroom and grabbed a dark purple, silk robe from the hook on the door, pulling it over her compact body. She tossed a second robe, similar in style and length, to the foot of the bed, a suggestion only.

"Where are you going?"

"I think I have just the ticket. I have some eskimo pies downstairs." She pointed out the door, as she bared her canines and leaned in to the blonde, prostrate on the bed and laid a gentle kiss to her exposed neck.

"I don't think I know it?" She said as she tilted her chin away from Cosima to expose more of herself to the woman's lips.

"Mmm, prepare to become a craven addict."

"I think I already am."

While Cosima tiptoed down the stairs, Delphine turned in the sheets, grinning, pulling the pillow that had lain under her lover to her nose, breathing in the scent. She sat up, pulling on the robe Cosima had put out for her, then laid there waiting, never so content to be alone in another person's space. She felt like she belonged, like she could spend countless hours in this room lying next to an American in dreadlocks trilling out endless facts on space and time and history while her fingers danced across her skin.

She wasn't sure how long she had been there, studying the ceiling, a small, unconscious smile on her face. She hadn't heard the brunette walk in, hadn't felt her presence until she heard a light hum followed by a cheeky voice.

"What are you thinking, Frenchie?"

Leaning up on her elbow, she said, "Hmm, I was wondering when you would bring me my ice cream, ma colombe."

"Mmmm, I bet."

The brunette was holding two slim, plastic covered treats with a record under her arm.

"You will get your treat" Her tongue was peaking behind canines, but then she pulled her lip behind her teeth, self-conscious. "But first … I wanted to play you something. Is that okay?"

"Oui, yes, Cosima. What do you have?"

Cosima set the two chocolate covered ice creams on the end table and walked to another turntable set into the darkest corner of the room. She roughly set the record in the turntable, the detail of the cover obscured in the dim light, and reached out a hand to Delphine.

"Will you join me?"

Delphine moved to stand as Cosima set the needle in the ridges.

The trumpet and sax sounded in as Delphine moved toward her. She knew it immediately. When she reached for Cosima, she pulled the smaller woman into a close, fast sway, wrapping one hand around her waist, the other instinctively entwining the fingers of their free hands. She was laughing lightly, shaking her head as the brunette's dreads swayed around her cheeky grin. Delphine's own smile grew to bursting as she gazed into vibrant, challenging copper eyes.

I fell in love with you the first time I looked into  
Them There Eyes  
And you have a certain lil cute way of flirtin'  
With Them There Eyes

They make me feel so happy  
They make me feel so blue  
I'm fallin', no stallin'  
In a great big way for you  
My heart is jumpin', you've started somethin'  
With Them There Eyes

They danced around each other, Delphine spinning Cosima every few lines and pulling her close for a kiss in between. At the last refrain, Delphine pulled Cosima into an impossible proximity, barely able to see each other, only able to feel their bodies pressed together.

She spoke softly into Cosima's ear, "I did fall, you know. On that train."

Cosima pulled back just slightly seeking her eyes, her own eyelids fluttering closed at the words, then she looked again as she brought their lips together. She breathed against her lips in an exaggerated drawl, "Darlin', you are gonna miss that plane." Her tone was teasing, but Delphine saw the sad expectancy behind her eyes.

"I know.

She understood, at least for now, that Delphine had agreed to stay.


End file.
